I can’t let this day pass without making mention of what is on most of our minds: today was the funeral service for Matthew Davidson, the worship leader at SECC Oldam Campus.
I’ve read posts on Facebook mostly, about what a beautiful service it was. Many have made mention of how they want their lives to count, to make a difference, to live a life that is about Christ to the point that it spills over and affects the lives of others. And I feel that way as well. It is to be expected, I suppose, when such a high-profile person passes from this life, one who gave so much of himself that the words spoken about his life become an inspiration of how to conduct our lives, leading a life well lived, for others, and for His glory.
But I must admit, my main thoughts, my prayers throughout the day have been for his wife and children. Lord, help them now to begin living this new life, the life with Matt gone. The festivities, if you will, are over, as people go back to the lives they were living before Matt’s accident and death, and now the hard part comes for his family…finding a new normal as they learn to live without the husband and father they loved, in the home they shared with Matt. How that is even possible is beyond me.
They are in good company, I know. Many have gone before them, embarking on the same journey they have been forced to take, and my heart aches for them all.
Why do we as humans think the most devastating thing that can happen is to lose a child to death? We somehow place a grading scale in which we have determined that there is no other death quite as painful as that. The worse kind of pain of all. It’s so unnatural, and goes against everything we are raised to believe, that we will outlive our children, when the fact of the matter is we get no say in that. (My aunt has outlived 3 of her 5 children.) How can we put a pecking order on something so huge, so personal, so very different for every person? And why do we feel compelled to do so?
It must be scary and so confusing to lose a parent at a very early age. And so utterly inconceivable to not remember the one who gave life to you as you grow up. And how much more so when the parent takes their own life, which, in fact, happened this week to someone who attended the same church my family went to years ago. What kind of message does that send to the child over and over and over again, as the child grows into adulthood?
Loss is loss. Loss is personal. Loss is real. Loss changes lives forever. And loss is something that we were never intended to get over, because it is so much apart of life. There, I’ve said it again.
My brother co-wrote a song a while back and there is one line that I will carry with me always. “If we could do it on our own, Jesus never would have left His throne (Be A Witness).” To that I say Amen.
Let God be lifted high, not because of our tragedies, but in spite of them, as we somehow find the grace and courage to let Him. And may we learn to thank Him in every situation we find ourselves in, which is no small feat, especially a situation that has affected so many lives such as the passing of Matt Davidson. The event that has altered the lives of his wife and three kids forever.
Though I never knew Matt personally I feel as if I know him in some minuscule way now, and my life has been touched by the legacy he left behind. I am thankful that I got a glimpse of his life here on earth.
Until we are all gathered together in the place that is our true home, to God be the glory. Amen.