15 Steps In A Graveyard

For the second Saturday in a row I attended a funeral today. A little over a week ago a beloved pastor died. He served his flock for 28 years before retiring. Ten days later his wife died. Her funeral was today one week after her husbands. They both lived to old age. It is sweet that God took them so close to one another.

When I walked up to the gravesite I noticed another grave. A little black picket fence outlined the grave covered with white gravel and marked with a tombstone of granite. The smallness of the grave grabbed my attention and drew me in for a closer look.

Back in 2006 a little child named Baylee died after living for only one month. I thought of the parents and the grief they must have felt. Only then did I notice another name on the other side of the tombstone covered by a flag blowing in the wind. I gently pushed the flag back and gasped when I discovered twins died to this same family on the day they were born. I counted the time between the death of Baylee and the death of the twins. Only Seven months. Kaman and Carter died 7 months after their sibling. The parents must have still grieved Baylee and then compounded that grief with unimaginable sorrow and sadness with the deaths of Kamron and Carter.

The deaths of those three children dominated my thoughts through the graveside service. I kept thinking how I stood at the gravesite of a husband and wife who enjoyed over 50 years of marriage and memories. They shared laughter, joys, and lived long enough to see their grandchildren nearly grown.

Behind me lay three infants who did not live long enough to have a first birthday. They never said a first word, crawled on the floor, took a fist step or enjoyed a Christmas morning.Tragic.

When the service ended I walked the distance between the two graves. 15 steps. Yet in experiences a chasm existed between the two beyond imagination. The pastor and his wife were remembered fondly. People found solace in the fact they died so close to one another and now had rest from the ailing bodies they had battled over the past few years. I found it odd how many people smiled at the funeral even among the children and grandchildren. It felt like a joyous occasion for all in attendance.

15 steps away I thought about grieving parents and grandparents. A little stone bench sat at the foot of that tiny grave. The stone top had these words etched on it. If tears could make a stairway to heaven, and memories make a lane, I would walk to heaven and bring you back again. Heart wrenching.

I thought of how many times that grieving mother and father sat on that little bench with tear stained cheeks wondering way God took three of their babies. I wondered how many times their guts ached from the sorrow to the point of doubling over in grief. I wondered how many times the sod under that tiny bench turned soft turning into mud from the torrential tears of grief by brokenhearted parents.

15 steps away the pastor and his wife, who both professed faith in Jesus Christ, are more alive now than ever. So are Baylee, Kamron, and Carter. They are alive in Jesus. I wonder about the parents of those three dear departed infants. Do they know Christ? Do they know the comfort only He can bring in sorrow and mourning. Do they know the hope of heaven their children are experiencing even now. I pray they do.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 (NASB)
¹³  But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope.
¹⁴  For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus.



May all those grieving this time of year find solace and hope in these verses no matter the difference 15 steps make in a graveyard.