The night my mother died I could not sleep. I was not aware of my mind racing. It was more like it was in shock and could not fall asleep. I finally gave up at three in the morning. My brother heard me in the small room and came out to see if it was my father. I expressed a need to talk, so my brother stayed up with me until six am.
I was thankful that my family had all gathered in our grief. We cried, we laughed, we shared our memories about mom. All of those things were a comfort though my grief has still not left me.
One thing that encouraged me was when I saw an entire pew at the memorial service filled with people from my church. My church is a tiny gathering of about twenty faithful believers, so that meant half our congregation had come in support of me. It is difficult to express how this blessed me.
Paul writes of the joy it brought him to know people loved him and that they shared the same faith (1 Thessalonians 3:6-8). There is strength in loving and knowing we are loved. Your support of other believers is not insignificant. Even the smallest gesture of giving of ourselves to others strengthens fellow believers.
