Sing to me of heaven

A confluence of circumstances brought times past to remembrance in an intense way this week. On Thursday I was invited to eat lunch with some of my Young family cousins.  Yes, hilarity ensued, but at the same time there was sweet sharing of stories about our ancestors, those dear ones who helped make us the people we are today.

The third couple from the left is J.P. and Lizzie Young, my paternal grandparents,
and sitting in front of them is my great-grandfather, Mike M. Young Sr.

On Saturday I got up early to go to the farmers' market downtown, and I came home with a beautiful batch of produce. Tomatoes made me think of my granddad; squash reminded me of my grandmother; and those purple-hulled peas! As I shelled them later that day, I thought of the many times I sat beside my great-grandmother, Valeria Jackson, in her tiny little house, shelling peas for what seemed like forever. I could see her smiling eyes, her gnarled hands, hear the laughter from her kitchen. Saturday was also the day my grandfather Bun Bun Jackson had a health scare that landed him in the hospital for a few days, so I had him on my mind as well.

Visiting my great-grandmother, Valeria Jackson, in 1990, the year before she died.

Vernon "Bun Bun" Jackson in his garden, around 1990.

Then today at Minter Lane, something very special happened. We had a scripture reading by Tom Smith (age 85), another reading by Lloyd Boyll (age 95), prayers by Roland Johnson (age 99!), and song leading by Jack Boyd (as he put it, the "stripling" of the bunch at age 80).

All of these things combined caused the fabric between earth and heaven to seem very thin to me. And Lloyd's reading was from one of my favorite passages in 2 Corinthians 4 and 5. He started in one version, paused with a smile, and asked our permission to read from another version. I believe it was from the New Living Translation:

That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18, NLT)

While this passage may be encouraging for me, it is real for Lloyd - 95 years old, with a wife who's confined to home by illness. It's real for Roland, whose daughter today simply said, "Daddy's tired." It's real for Tom, who will have major surgery in the morning. And when I look at these men, I see the glory in them already - the glory that only the Father of light can give mortals in dying bodies.

So tonight I weep for loss that is sure to come, while also smiling to know the victory that awaits, humming that old hymn we know so well:

When our hearts are weary, when the days are long,
Sing to me of heaven, sing that old sweet song.

Sweet indeed! Praise God.

P.S. A beautiful modern song about heaven is "Sing Me to Heaven" by Jane Griner and Daniel E. Gawthrop. I recorded Bekah singing it with the Cooper High School Choir, and the lyrics are here.