There Comes a Point

Those of you who've been reading along with me for a while know I'm big on the lessons I learn as I journey through life ... lessons that come along in many different ways at many different times. And you also know that it often takes several times of being presented those lessons for me to really get what it is I'm supposed to learn. But then there are other times when a lesson is so real that I understand immediately just how powerful is the truth contained within it. Today was one of those times ... one of those times when the realness of the lesson was unmistakable.

I've known a lot of families in my lifetime that I would consider to have strong relationships, but today I spent time with a family who gives love and loyalty a whole new meaning. I met them for lunch ... there were 20 or so of them gathered around the two long tables at the restaurant. There were little kids and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and brothers and sisters and parents and husbands and wives, and they welcomed me in as part of their family. The group wasn't gathered for lunch today to celebrate a birthday or a wedding or a graduation, but rather to share a meal before they attended the funeral service for a much-loved member of their family. The young man they were honoring today was the son of two of the most wonderful people I've ever known. He was also a father, a brother, a nephew, an uncle and a cousin ... he was a man of joy and compassion, and he will be deeply missed by all who knew him. As I sat at the table with my dear friend and her family, I sensed the sadness within each of them ... I could see it in their eyes and feel it with every beat of their hearts. But there was something else at that table besides sadness today ... there was a bond of love between them like few I've ever seen.

Sitting on the pew in the chapel waiting for the service to begin, I looked at the large photo of my friends' son standing on a table at the front of the room. I watched as the pews began to fill with people, so many people that chairs were brought in and placed along the walls. I've said many times that we are family at the company I work for ... I blinked back tears as I saw two of the original founders of our company, a retired managing partner, members of the leadership team from our Kansas City office, current and former employees from the Wichita office as they all made their way into the chapel. I saw people I haven't seen for several years and people I see every day. I saw friends and co-workers of the young man who passed away and friends of his family. I listened as the minister spoke words of hope and comfort to those who are grieving, and the tears I had been fighting all day to contain flooded my eyes and coursed down my cheeks as the song "Daddy's Hands" echoed through the room.

Traveling back to Kansas City following the service, I was quiet and deep in thought as the miles rolled by. I was keenly aware of the lesson placed before me today ... the importance, the meaning, the depth, the absolute necessity to never forget it. You see, in the end, it doesn't matter how much money you make or whether or not you wear designer clothes or what kind of car you drive or where you work or how many important people you know. In the end, all that matters is what I saw around the table at lunch today. In the end, all that matters is what I witnessed in the chapel this afternoon. In the end, all that matters is that we love each other. In the end, all that matters is that we are there for each other ... whether the sun is shining brightly or the darkness is deeper than it's ever been.

There comes a point ... there comes a point when the lesson is so undeniably real ... so overwhelmingly powerful ... so incredibly true ... there comes a point when the lesson changes you forever, friends. There comes a point when you are forever changed.