He pursues each of us...as if there were only one of us

Yesterday Gerald and Monique buried Gerald's auntie - Patrice. I wanted to be there at the church - True Vine [on Fenkel] - when the family arrived because I love Gerald and Monique and they are some of the sweetest friends and partners in Jesus that Carla and I have ever had. When they arrived, we hugged and kissed and exchanged the love of God. It was a good moment. The love of Jesus Christ heals and strengthens and comforts in the deepest pain.

But something happened a bit earlier that affected me even more deeply. Gerald's Aunt Patrice had lived a hard life. She was a believer in Jesus - but had struggled with addiction. During the pre-funeral visitation, a young woman came into the church and walked down front to pay her respects. By appearance, this young lady looked as if she had seen some rough times as well. On the way out, she had tears running down her face - and was so broken that she walked briskly by everyone - visitors and church members and...me. She talked quietly to herself, wiping away her tears and shaking her head...as she walked out the door and back down the street from where she had come...a street strewn with trash and garbage and earmarked by abandon buildings and weed-filled empty lots and a distinct absence of human beings.

I couldn't stand it. I couldn't. I followed her - and ended up running down the street, chasing her and eventually calling out, "Hey" - and she turned and stopped and I stood in front of her and simply said, "Are you alright?" I said, "What's your name?" And surprisingly, she told me: "Cassandra". I said, "You don't know me but I saw you crying and I had to come after you to simply tell you that I am so sorry for your loss...and that there is a God who loves you very, very much - in fact, with His whole heart." And I took her in my arms - in fact, she fell into my arms - and sobbed.

In a few moments, she paused and said, "Patrice was one of us and I loved her and am going to miss her so much." Then she said, "It could have been me", referring to Patrice's untimely, in fact tragic death. I said, "I know." Then I hugged her again and said, "That's why it is so important that you know that God's Son, Jesus, died for you and me and Patrice and everyone. Believe in Him, Cassandra. Believe in Him." And she sobbed some more.

Then the conversation was over. She asked me if there were any "obituaries"? I didn't know - but I said I would try to find one and save one for her if there were. And I said goodbye and she said thanks and she was gone.

I walked back to the church and I continued to think about Cassandra. I thought about God's great personal love for her...and for me...and how He pursues all of us in and through our pain. And how He never stops loving us and never stops pursuing us...ever.

As I stood in the lobby of the church, Gerald came and told me the family had put me on the program for "remarks" - and I said to my friend, "Gerald, I've got something else I think I need to do." And he said, "Go do it" and I went and stood in line and waited for a program - the obituary that Cassandra had asked for - and got one of the last ones - maybe the last one in the house. And then I started walking down Fenkel, looking for Cassandra. I walked and I walked and I walked and then I turned around and started to walk back and prayed and told the Lord that I tried and to please, please take care of this lamb - and then she was there, across the street, walking toward me. And I told her I had been looking for her and gave her the obituary - and she thanked me and hugged me and I told her again how much her Heavenly Father loved and adored her. I said, "Don't forget, Cassandra." She promised me she wouldn't. And then, for the second time that morning, she was gone.