Six years ago two of my sons were headed to Philadelphia to see an outdoor concert. The band was playing at Laurel Hill Cemetery, a gorgeous 75 acre plot of stunning memorials, grave stones, mausoleums and statues, sitting high above Fairmont park and the winding river.
At the time, my son was deep in addiction. I was absolutely sick with the thought of him driving, so I insisted on going. We arrived early and explored the wondrous grounds at sunset. A poignant photo of me remains. I am standing behind a memorial wall gazing with a broken heart at my beloved boy, thinking, He is going to die. I am going to lose my son.
Fast forward, as they say, a handful of blessed years. My friend Kathy invited me to go on a walking tour of that historic cemetery. The day was cold and raw, but I recalled that special place, and I love that special friend, so we went. An hour into the tour, my phone received a text. It was two words from that beloved son: Five years. Kathy smiled in celebration with me. She had lovingly supported us through it all.
Suddenly I remembered the photo and told Kathy about that evening when my hope was setting with the sun. There we stood, in that sprawling place, just yards away from the very wall. She pulled me from the tour and pointed for me to stand in the spot as she took a new picture. God’s mercy and love poured warmth and color into our stark winter. He guides and keeps us; with Him, our way is never bleak.
Do not let your heart envy sinners, but always be zealous for the fear of the Lord. There is surely a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off. Proverbs 23:17-18
Meeting God at the Park 