Family Reunion

My wife and I just returned from a family reunion in Ohio. My first (he doesn't want me to say oldest) brother and his wife were also there so we made the visit to old churches, old homes, three cemeteries, and the like. We laughed and laughed with cousins and other relatives. We ate together at the Olde Dutch Restaurant in Logan, OH. It may not have quite been like the family reunions of old, but it was fun. We reminisced, looked at old pictures, met new members of the family, marvelled at how old some looked, and how young others looked.
As I pondered, I thought how this weekend was representative of my entire life. We visited the old Bearwallow Church of Christ on Bearwallow Ridge. We found the Lancaster Street Church of Christ that my dad helped to literally build...I mean bricks and mortar and everything. We saw where they used to meet there in Athens, just a little square brick house. And we attended church on Sunday at the Blackburn Road Church of Christ there in Athens. I took my brother to the Old Bedford church; at least to where it used to stand. A split from the old Bedford Chruch formed the Bearwallow Church. How appropriate that our entire lives were built around church. With my dad being a preacher and then later a college professor, we spent our time at church, always. If there was a meeting somewhere, we were there. Many times, it was dad preaching the meetings. When the doors opened, we were there. Our lives then and now center around church.
We visited with aunts and uncles, cousins and other in-laws. We laughed and laughed. I'm not talking just a chuckle. I'm talking about the kind of laughter that always occurred at family reunions. Gentle ribbing, old stories, pranks played, and sometimes we just laughed because we were together. My aunt left the room and she claimed it got quiet. She claimed that when I walked back in the room it got loud again. Once again, that has been my life. Utter joy around family. Even when the times weren't so good, we could still find a reason for some laughter. A good joke or just the sheer fun of being together made our time so precious.
And three cemeteries. Burlingham where my great-great grandfather and his wife are buried. He's the one who started it all there in Ohio. He left Virginia after the Civil War to begin a new life. He was long gone before I came along, but his influence continues on to this day. Cherry Ridge where many more relatives are buried including my great grandfather and family, my grandfather and his family. Hallowed ground. As the gentle breeze blew across the field I could see our family gather in difficult times weeping and mourning the loss of another family member who had gone on to their reward. Yet, there was always hope. Hope that we would all, I mean all, would see each other again. That's what we were taught, that's what we believe. The Old Bedford cemetery didn't have any relatives that I know of. But the church that stood there was the place where my great-great grandfather worshiped God.
Church, Joy, Death. All vital parts of my life. Some may say that those three are a strange combination. I think they are what life is all about. We find God in our relationships with God's people. And God's people are our relatives if they are physically related to us or spiritually related. The joy we share is priceless. And when we die, we know that it's just the beginning. I forget who said this, but I remember someone describing death as putting out the candle because the sun was coming up. What a great description.
What a great trip we had. It was a reminder to let me know just how fortunate I am to have the loving family that I have. Have a great day. JW