Edward’s QT, May 12, 2026, 2 Samuel 1:17-27.
David sings a song of lament over the deaths of Saul and Jonathan, glorifying them. He does not wish the enemies of Israel to exalt in their deaths.
I have wept over the deaths of four people related to me and one who wasn’t. First was my father who died of cancer. I last saw him in the hospital when we knew we would never meet again. I asked for forgiveness for my disrespect of him during my teenage years and for the time after my mother divorced him as well as many other sins against him. With a wave of his hand he wiped them away and blessed me. I held my tears until I left his room and then cried all the way out of the hospital. He never missed Sunday worship and was a steadfast model of faith.
The second death was my first wife, who died of alcoholism. It was a sad death. She had shrunk to a skin tent over bones and we had nothing to say to each other but recriminations. Because she died at home, I was under suspicion of murder for twenty-four hours until her hospital records and doctor cleared me of that suspicion. Given my attitude and much of my behavior during our marriage, I feel the truth of that suspicion still. In the early years of our marriage, the revelation of my weak character and poor handling of difficult circumstances deepened her escape into alcohol. She was the mother of my children and the Lord know how much better I could’ve done by her. Instead I turned to another woman.
The third death was my mother, who loved me but let her love turn me into an idol, not a comfortable position for either of us. She had brains, drive and a natural authority, but her upbringing left her unable to show a simple kindness to herself and others. Everything in her life had to be perfect, including the way our Christmas tree was decorated. Despite her drive for perfection, she had good people skills and was always admired by others. We had a quiet moment together before I left for my flight back to Korea, a meeting that we both knew would be our last. It was a special one I will cherish. There was nothing left to say but “I love you and please remember Jesus.”
The fourth death was that of my Korean father-in-law. He was a loud and aggressive man who could grow any plant. I witnessed his acceptance of Jesus and becoming a member of Wooridle. Through his change, he brought his family out of ancestor worship. We were at the hospital when he died, his breathing weaker and weaker. On his last night, we were there. I touched his shoulder and prayed for him.
The last death was Mr. Yang, my first Wooridle mokja. We visited him a couple of weeks before he died. He greeted us with his usual warm smile but whenever I tried to speak or pray, I cried instead. All I could do was hold his hand and pray with tears. He died four days ago. I don’t know why I feel aggrieved at his death, but I do. I have been to dozens and dozens of funerals at Wooridle, but I don’t recall one affecting me like this. He and his wife gave the first testimony I heard at Wooridle, a testimony that touched me deeply and confirmed my membership at our church.
Application: Before Pastor Kim gave Mr. Yang’s eulogy, she said in her sermon that she had fasted for three days in repentance. Inspired by her, I am fasting for three days too. This is my second day.
Prayer: God have mercy on all the dear departed souls I have known.
