Memories at the Monuments

“Jacob rose early in the morning and took the stone he had slept on and set it up on its end. Then he poured olive oil on the top of it.” Genesis 28:18

I pulled into our family cemetery - Chandler Cemetery - near the little town of Marseilles and where my Grandmother was raised. Memories flooded my mind and my heart felt the love that has surrounded me and been my foundation all my life. The sun was shining, and the wind was blowing, and I felt the presence of the Lord. This cemetery brings me comfort and peace. As I read the tombstones of my parents, the names of their children are listed. My name is on the stone. Someday, my body will be laid to rest next to my parents. Sadness fills the memories because those I love are not physically with me, but there is joy that they have lived, made a difference in my life, and are now in Heaven.

As I walked through the cemetery, I felt like I was in the presence of my childhood. I was walking through memories of my childhood as I passed each stone. The tombstones were a tribute - a monument of remembrance for lives well lived. I thanked God for the privilege of knowing so many of His saints. Like Mary who was my “Annual Conference Mom” and her husband, Lewis, who loved to tease me. They supported me in my ministry. There were monuments to relatives I never met, but who are part of who I am and the foundation of our family. Names I heard of but never met, but who are part of me.

Later in the week, I drove to the cemetery where my husband, Dave is buried and my dear friend, Ruth. As I left a stone at their grave markers, I felt their presence and thanked God for their love and influence. I remembered so many people I have laid to rest in this cemetery. It was like visiting friends and church family. I stood at the grave of my grandson, J.C., and felt the deep loss of never knowing who he would have been and how our lives would have been intertwined. I recognized some lives I could celebrate their long life and influence, but other lives were cut short from living days on this earth. Their lives still influenced me, but I long to know what the full potential could have been.

The cemetery is filled with monuments, gravestones and markers that represent a life lived. Each person was loved by someone. Each person was part of a family. Each person contributed to society. We can learn from both positive and negative influences. In our memories though, the bad fades and the good remains.

In Genesis, Jacob set the stone he laid on up on its end and worshiped God. The stone was a monument to a memory of God’s presence. The cemetery is a place of death. It is the last place our earthly body is laid to rest. But it is also a monument to God’s presence. God created our loved one. God loved them. We love them. We go to the cemetery seeking quiet and peace. Seeking to remember those we love. Thanking God for their life, their love and their influence upon our lives. We go to thank God for the gift of their lives but also to thank God that death is not the end. It is only the end to this earthly life. We go to remind ourselves that the grave is not the end. The love remains in our hearts. The memories and love in our hearts is a gift from God. As we remember, we praise God for the life, the love and all the memories. We worship. The cemetery has become a place of worship and prayer for me. I have had the long nights of sorry and grief, and sitting beside the grave crying. Now I go to the cemetery in thanksgiving for the lives that have been on my journey and who I will one day see again. Sadness is still present and the tears still flow, but the sadness is mingled with hope. Sadness and hope pour over the monuments of memories.