As I attended my second funeral in three weeks, two Christians showed me a kindness I couldn’t explain.
I had been standing in line for more than an hour, waiting to meet a woman whose daughter, my son’s girlfriend, had just died in a car crash.
As I waited, I took a deep breath to keep my emotions in check. Fate had overwhelmed us. My career in finance had just tanked because I was fired as a whistleblower. We were drastically cutting spending and in danger of losing our home. And I was attending my second wake in three weeks.
Nineteen days before Kira died, my other son’s girlfriend, Ashley, had committed suicide. Her funeral was small and somber. But something remarkable happened. Debbie, a friend of Ashley’s family, had approached my wife and me with kindness. Numerous times, she came over to ask if we or our sons needed any support. In a sea of darkness, Debbie was the only light we saw that day. I was surprised, comforted, and drawn in by her warmth and compassion.
Yet I soon forgot about her, consumed by the many tragedies that had taken over our lives.
Now as we waited in line to pay our respects to Kira’s mom, I saw Debbie again. She asked about both of our sons, concerned that our family had experienced two losses in such a short time. More kindness, more light, more carefully measured sweetness just when we needed it.
As she walked away, I turned to hide the tears in my eyes. Silently I wondered, Who is like that?
My thoughts returned to my two sons, who looked like they had just returned from war. I knew they needed help piecing their shattered lives back together.
The line was getting shorter as I considered what to say to Kira’s mom. Having never met her, I knew only two things about her: She had been very close to her daughter, and she was a Christian. I didn’t like “church …