At A Loss

I'm sitting here looking at the screen, trying to figure what to write. Believe it or not, I am finding myself at aloss for words. The things I have seen and heard in the last several days around the police station have left me feeling numb.
I went to the funeral viewing today for Corporal Scott Severns. So many people. Friends, family, coworkers. Each with their own memories. Their own stories. Their own opinions. Some I strained wih great interest to hear. A few I didn't agree with, but all were told with love and fondness. Once I got into the viewing area, I shook several hands and asked how many of the policemen I work with were doing, then made my way to the casket. I was face to face with Scott's mom. We have never met and I was totally unsure of what to say. Fortunately, some of my fellow dispatchers had gone before me, so she said, "are you another of the dispatchers?" I told her I was and hugged her. "What do I say," I thought? So I said he first thing that popped into my head. "Thank you."
What? Why did I say that? It made no sense to me. But, Scott's mom somehow knew that I meant "thanks for letting us know and work with your son." As I fininshed hugging her, she looked at me, smiled and told me, "thank you for looking after Scott when you were dispatching him." It was an incredible moment, only eclipsed when I stood in front of the casket, to pay my last respects. I have heard so many heartwarming stories about Scott in the last couple of days. It is amazing that all too often, you never really get to know the difference someone makes in life, until they are no longer part of it.


When I got home tonight, I was looking through a book I like called "Practitioners." They quoted a section of a book by Michael Card called "Sacred Sorrow." It speaks of how 'God works within the space of doubt, failure, pain and friendship.' I do not know exactly what to say to those closest to Scott, but these words embody what I would say if I could.



"Your true friends will be willing to sit with you in silence not for a week, but for as long as
it takes. Your real friends will encourage you to keep talking, crying out to, arguing with God. And when you would be tempted to despair and quit the dance floor, saying that you simply lack the strength or faith to go on, it is only your real friends who will have the love
to leave you alone with the One who desires, above all, to finish the dance with you."