A sweet friend lost her brother unexpectedly last week. I attended his funeral yesterday. It’s been 8 ½ years since my younger daughter died, and I have attended at least five funerals in that interim. My heart still mourns for all the lost loved ones, but I’m mostly past being emotionally triggered at memorial services. The gentleman who passed away was obviously loved by many, many people. The small African American Baptist church was packed with people celebrating his homegoing.
The music was uplifting and heart-wrenching at the same time. Yes, it’s possible to praise and mourn simultaneously. The first hymn the choir sang echoed words from Matthew chapter 25: “when I get to heaven, I want to hear ‘Well done, good and faithful servant’.”
I sometimes picture sweet souls being welcomed into Heaven by multitudes of angels and scores of departed loved ones wearing white robes, halos, and wings and music ringing off the clouds. Millions of saints lining a golden path that leads to the throne of God. That sounds amazing but also overwhelming. Since I’ll have eternity to explore, congregate, and worship perhaps just being hugged by Jesus and hearing Him say “well done” would be the best welcome ever.
These thoughts were running through my head as I listened to the choir and soloists, heard words of love spoken by many friends and relatives of the deceased, and pondered the eulogy given by the pastor. I was touched, but able to hold in tears until …
At the end of the service, the funeral home attendants came slowly marching down the aisle singing “I’ll Fly Away.” They were accompanied by a saxophone and trombone. The choir joined in and then the whole congregation.
I’ve mentioned that Rachel was an old soul. She learned traditional gospel and bluegrass music at the feet of her granddaddy singing and playing his guitar. “I’ll Fly Away” was her favorite song. It was sung at her funeral. Not by deep, beautiful black voices in a small Southern church. But, by a praise band made up of young adults who were unfamiliar with old gospel tunes and had less than a week to practice them. Still, I cried as we sang it to both praise God and mourn my daughter.
And I cried yesterday as the church sang it to both praise God and mourn their loved one who had no doubt been a good and faithful servant.
And I know, like Rachel, he was welcomed into Heaven with the words:
“Well Done.”
Laura
A Light for My Path 
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