One Day in May - Guest Blog by Tim Hall

I will never forget getting the news that my grandfather had passed away.  I had just turned 20 years old and was fortunate in that I had never had anyone close to me die before.  Or maybe unfortunate…as Solomon suggests, “you learn more at a funeral, than a feast”. (Ecclesiastes 7:2)

Life was exciting, having just moved out on my own with a church buddy, spreading my wings in a lot of ways.  But, the day of the funeral, my wings came back to my side and the party of life came to a pause. I wasn’t sure how to react, watching the reactions of those about me.  I seemed to want to work out in my mind some meaning for the present moment I found myself in. Was this an overwhelming, terrible occasion? Or was this just the natural progression to all life and should be taken in stride?  Of course, I knew it before, but for the first time, I pondered all the people in the history books and all my ancestry that had lived their length of time on earth. They each must have had their very own date with death. It made me feel my mortality.  Made me feel finite for maybe the first time.

From my earliest remembrance, the road to my grandparents’ house was a welcome one.  Upon arrival, my brothers and I each took a turn to Grandpa’s lap and looking up between the straps of his overalls, we would find his smile, his squeeze, and his whiskers teasing our cheeks.  It was apparent that we were a prize visit for him. Before leaving his lap, we would always find the butterscotch candy, wrapped in yellow. Many good memories of his life still dwell in my heart and mind. 

So, here I sat, looking at what appeared to be my grandpa, lying in a box before me.  I couldn’t help but wonder that one day, that would be me. My emotions, filled with tears and sorrow in missing him, suddenly turned.  My spirit began to soar; believing he was now in heaven, though his body would shortly be lowered below the surface. 

With five cousins, I struggled to help carry his coffin out of the small country chapel.  Shortly after crossing a country road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, there was the rural graveyard where his body would reside.  After a short graveside ceremony, friends and family slowly dispersed back across the road and down toward the chapel, where their cars were parked on the grass.

I would miss my grandpa greatly, but this moment in time was to become an important, deep, and special moment to hold on to.  I remember vividly, looking across the graves, past the road, toward the chapel. Many were visiting and some beginning to leave.  There were only a couple of undertakers and myself still at the gravesite. I, for some reason, just wasn’t ready to leave yet. I was watching, for the first time in my life, the process of lowering a casket into a vault.  The music was over, all the eloquent words had already been spoken for the occasion, but somehow, amid the unique noise and duty of the undertakers, in this field of graves, I felt God’s quiet presence.

It was then, I believe, a most divine and marvelous little miracle took place.  It was a clear day of perfect blue skies and out of nowhere a gentle shower of rain came down upon me.  I looked up, first thinking it couldn’t be, but there it was, raining down a peace that is unexplainable.  I know it sounds crazy, but the rain only fell in about a 10 ft. circumference and lasted but a mere 30 seconds or so.  The effect, however, left me speechless with a great sense of awe.

Part of me wanted to yell across the road to my grandmother and other family and ask if they happened to see what just happened…a brief shower, in a lone spot, out of a blue sky…but I knew they had not.  Part of me felt as if Grandpa was somehow smiling down on me one last time. But every part of me knew what I had just witnessed was a gesture by the Almighty; that He was there, and that all was well. He replaced a heavy spirit with a spirit of light in only thirty seconds.  God is just that good!

Surely you’ve had some moments of such wonder…do you believe the eyes of God are on you?  He cares for us and He cares far more than we know…