Do not let your hearts be troubled

An eight-hour drive to a little town in Texas has led this morning to a few moments of pondering. This morning we will honor the memory of one Mark McGaughey, my wife, Mary’s, brother. We drove up yesterday, we’ll drive back today, and my body is screaming like a car with a fan-belt that has seen far too many miles and is about to snap at any second. EEEEEYYYYYYYYYEEEEEE, my knee, hip, back, front, top, bottom all sang. And all of them knew the words.
But this is not about me, no matter how much I make it about me.
This, today, is about Mark.
Mark had what is known today as issues. As long as I knew him, he knew those issues. Early on in Mary and my relationship, Mark tried to kill himself, using a gun for all the wrong reasons.
Earlier this year, he did this again. This time he was successful.
Today we do not celebrate that moment, but instead we look toward celebrating all those times when he laughed instead of cried, smiled instead of becoming angry.
Look, I will not, cannot begin to understand what he thought, what his life was like, or what his end was like. Just can’t.
But what I do understand somewhat is love of sister for brother, and that’s what I’ll try to preach today.
I’ll remember a late-to-the-party Saints fan.
I’ll remember tales told of family when they all were young.
I’ll remember this family, when it was as stuck on life as bandaids are stuck on us.
For in the end, isn’t that what all memorial services are about?
Jesus said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.”
That’s what I’ll preach. That’s what I’ve always preached. Peace be with you from Texas.