Ashes and Feasting

Bruce and I each grew up in Christian homes. We met in our church choir after college after Bruce had just started grad school. Christ was the center of our marriage and we loved growing individually and growing together in the Lord. Since Bruce’s death, every Sunday at church has become an especially soulful experience for me. Christ rescued us and redeemed our lives from the pit at the ultimate cost to Him of His life, and Sunday is a time where we especially focus on our sins that put Jesus on the cross and on His forgiveness of our sins that has made it possible for us to spend eternity in heaven with Him one day. In thinking about Christ’s death, especially as we are moving towards Easter, it is quite natural to reflect on Bruce’s death.

Bruce passed away on the evening of November 11 (at 11:11 p.m., to be exact). Once he had been removed from life support earlier that day, the nurses told us he could live anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Family members and friends came and went to say their goodbyes. By the time late evening came, Bruce was surrounded by me, our two sons, and my brother and sister. The mood was somber but not morbid. We simply didn’t know what to expect, and watched helplessly as Bruce’s breathing became more and more irregular. The nurses couldn’t tell us how quickly he might take his last breath, so we were uncertain how to proceed–with dinner plans, for example. No one wanted to leave, so, of course, we ordered Mexican food to be delivered for the 5 of us–it was a most appropriate choice! By the time we were notified that the food had arrived, around 10:30 p.m., Bruce seemed to be declining quickly. We could tell the nurse thought it could be any minute, and she graciously went down to the lobby to pick up our food.

Meanwhile, throughout the evening, we had the TV turned on to the Seattle Seahawks vs. San Francisco 49ers game (yes, we did!), partly because my brother is a huge Seahawks fan and partly because everyone in the room (including Bruce), except for my sister, were huge football fans. And this game was a nail-biter. I still remember my sister looking at the 4 of us as time progressed and saying, “Do we really need to have that on?” <<big pause>> Finally, I piped up and said, “Bruce wouldn’t mind.” It was a great distraction and a welcome relief as we waited, not knowing what to expect. Everything that needed to be said had been said. At the exact moment that the game went into overtime, we could tell Bruce was taking his last few breaths and turned off the TV. Timing is everything! (The Seahawks won in overtime, we later found out.)

Bruce took his last breath before his heart stopped beating. I had my hand resting gently on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and then realized, finally, that his heart had stopped. 11:11 p.m. on 11/11. It was an incredibly surreal experience because, in the last few seconds of my beloved’s life, his physical appearance changed. He did not look like himself, which was both disturbing and comforting, because he clearly no longer inhabited his poor, broken down body. His deepest longings had finally been fulfilled. The phrase that continues to go through my mind every time I remember that scene, and even now, is, “He is not here; he is risen.” Exactly what the angel said to the two Marys on Easter morning when they came to annoint Jesus’ body, but found the tomb was empty. Jesus’ body had risen from the dead. Bruce’s soul and spirit had been released from his mortal body, and had been, in the twinkling of an eye, transported into the presence of his Savior. He was now, without question, celebrating in heaven!

Lent is the 6-week period of fasting, self-sacrifice, and prayer observed by Christians each year to prepare for the celebration of Easter, when Christ rose from the dead to sit at the right hand of the Father. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the Lenten season. According to tradition, the ashes used on Ash Wednesday to mark the foreheads of believers in Christ are gathered up after the palms from the previous year’s Palm Sunday are burned. This year Ash Wednesday is on February 26.

I got a phone call this past Friday from UT Southwestern Medical School. It’s strange to have their name in my list of contacts, but they have been such good friends to me since November 11. They were the last people to care for Bruce’s body and used it for medical science, and they have been so gracious and respectful each time I have spoken with them. They were calling to arrange a day to deliver Bruce’s ashes to me. <<gulp>> I knew this day was coming. They told me that they overnight the ashes and I have to be home to sign for them. Since today was a holiday, they said they would mail them tomorrow and I would get them on Wednesday. For a split second I almost said, “Can we wait until next Wednesday? That’s Ash Wednesday.”

So, I will have my own private “Ash Wednesday,” of sorts, this week. Bruce–the remains of his earthly body–will finally be coming home–3 days before what would have been our 45th anniversary. Just the thought could have completely undone me, from a human and emotional standpoint. But it unexpectedly has brought me comfort–God’s comfort. He’s well aware of the timing. How I longed for Bruce to return to our home in his physical, earthly body, but that wasn’t God’s plan. It really wasn’t what Bruce wanted, under the circumstances. This will just be a wistful but gracious, loving reminder that the Bruce I knew is Home with our heavenly Father and I will see them both one day.

It’s always the music that puts tears in my eyes each Sunday morning. I never know which song or which phrase it will be but, all of a sudden, my eyes become moist. Our final song in church this past Sunday was, “We Will Feast in the House of Zion.” I love that this song starts with the chorus, because the words and music are so jubilant. My eyes were brimming with tears as I sang. It’s impossible not to think of Bruce feasting in Zion (how he loved food!), joyfully singing with a restored heart, and weeping no more. It’s impossible not to be so ecstatically happy for him when I sing this song. To me, that is what love is–wanting God’s best for the one you love, no matter what. And that means whatever brings God the most glory, even when it’s so painful for us. Looking forward to joining the big feast in the house of Zion one day!

We Will Feast in the House of Zion

Chorus:

We will feast in the house of Zion
We will sing with our hearts restored
He has done great things, we will say together
We will feast and weep no more

We will not be burned by the fire
He is the Lord our God
We are not consumed, by the flood
Upheld, protected, gathered up

(Chorus)

In the dark of night, before the dawn
My soul, be not afraid
For the promised morning, oh how long?
Oh God of Jacob, be my strength

(Chorus)

Every vow we’ve broken and betrayed
You are the Faithful One
And from the garden to the grave
Bind us together, bring shalom.

(Chorus)