April 6, 2023 - Tough Day

     Yesterday was one of those days that you are glad when you can lie down and know that all days aren’t like this one.
     We took Teresa’s car in for a “loss of power” issue.  The tech said it would have to stay for most of the day.  There were a couple of manufacturer recalls that needed fixing, too.
     First call from the dealership: “Your warranty doesn’t cover the part.  It should be ready tomorrow.”
     Second call from the dealership: “After some additional diagnosis, we have determined that your Edge needs a need motor. Could be up to three weeks.”
     I went with Teresa to the dealership, figuring that it wouldn’t be a short repair and intended to bring her back to the house.  We stopped at the grocery store when we got back to Lawrenceburg.  I waited like a good husband while she shopped for some stuff because four of the five grandkids were coming to spend the night.  When I tried to start the Explorer, it wouldn’t start.
     A tow and two hours later the starter was replaced.   I couldn’t complain.  It was the first starter in 325K miles.
     I headed to Cynthiana to pick up two of Megan’s girls who were coming to Gaga’s house.  Husbands/grandpas never own houses apparently.  Bad news when I got to Cynthiana.  Megan and Bryan’s dog, Addie, had died.  They knew it was coming, but that doesn’t lessen the pain.  It was the first “death” for their girls to experience.
     Addie was a great pet.  A rescue dog when she was a pup.  She was about half pit bull, but was very loving and gentle.  And protective of the kids.
     I, too, loved that dog.  There’s lots of pain when you lose a beloved pet, especially a house pet. 
     I’ve had four or five pets in my lifetime.  Just three main ones since Teresa and I were married.  I almost never cry, except for some reason at the death of a pet.  Usually when I am digging the hole to bury them.
     I didn’t cry at the death of my mom and dad, but I cried at the death of a pet.  It seemed strange until I analyzed it. 
     Death for my mom and dad was a transition.  They were alive in this world and then they crossed the threshold into the next, where they are alive forever.  I rejoiced when their suffering was over and Jesus gave them a new body.  I know in the resurrection that I will see them again.  There is no sense of finality to their deaths.
     When a beloved pet dies, that’s it.  It is the finality of death when a pet dies that stings.  John Wesley hoped his horse would be in heaven.  While there may be animals in heaven, I am pretty confident that it won’t be one of my pets.
     I believe that is the same feeling that unbelievers have when a loved one dies.  Death is final because there is no hope of resurrection.
     I once had a funeral of a man in his 70s who was never in the church that I pastored except when his granddaughter was married.  He had no profession of faith.  He died at the local club of a massive stroke while playing poker.  His head landed in the middle of the poker table when he died.
     The mood at the funeral was that same finality of death feeling.  There was a coldness that I can’t explain but I experienced. 
     On Sunday we will celebrate that the tomb was empty and that Jesus rose from the dead.  He has taken the sting of death away for the believer.  “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
     Knowing that this world will not have the last say tempers days like today.  How do those apart from Jesus cope with days like today, but even more with the finality of death?  I honestly have no clue.