Another funeral, more joy.

Patty's funeral is today. I can't get away so I attended the wake last night. Packed. I had to park a couple blocks away and found the funeral home jammed to the gills with mourners queued in a line that snaked like one at Disneyworld.

Class of '79, a year younger than me. 4 kids. A great husband. A long battle with cancer. A triumphant release into heaven. Couldn't ask for more.

Or could we?

Sure. Why couldn't she have become a grandmother and enjoyed retirement with Dave at the lake? Why does there need to be that gaping hole in the family that won't be patched? Why did Patty fall victim to disease when any number of scoundrels walk the planet?

I think it goes to our very subtle, very human lack of trust in what God is up to with our lives. We'd like to peek at the end of the story and make sure that it's a happy ending where evil is defeated and good things happen to people. We really don't know what He is up to in all this. But how many times have we read that unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground it won't produce more seeds to begin new life.

The lines had to untangle at 6pm for the prayer service last night. We all wedged ourselves into the reception area where a pastor spoke honesty, truth, and love about Patty. It wasn't one of those "oh, she's looking down on us" or "I'm sure Grandpa is golfing in heaven right now" kinds of make-you-feel-better-but-you-know-it's-not-true time fillers---this was real and true and painful and joyous.

This was the joyous kind of experience to have at the end of an otherwise too-short earthly life. I tell you this--I'd rather have one of these at 48 than one where I live to be 90 and have 15 people I barely knew show up and then vamoose as soon as it's over. I've been to 3 funerals in the past year---66% have been joyous.

OK, I'll admit something. I peeked at the end of the story. We win.