July 27, 2015

I've got a treasure trove of black preachers and hallelujahs, but nothing quite had me prepared for Stevie's funeral. It was at an A.M.E. church out in the cornfields outside of Centreville next to a cattle ranch. Elder Teichert and I wore our suits and shined shoes trying to look as respectful as possible and ended up getting mistaken as federal officers by a biker gang chilling outside the church before the viewing. They were called "The Jersey Thugs", as written on their torn denim biker vests with a punisher skull on the backs. We cleared things up with them and entered the humid building to witness a huge roomed filled with wailing and lamentations and people draped over chairs crying left and right. I'd never seen anything like it. On the mission I'd been to three funerals before that one, but they were all in a much more quiet setting. Also, I'm not sure I've ever gotten as many dirty looks as I got in those three hours. The service began after the funeral and the weeping escalated. Like five or six preachers were leading the program with solo songs and loud, extremely loud, prayers. Oh the choir was beautiful though. Too bad they only sung  once. What bothered me the most was how only a third of the service was focused on Stevie's life. The rest was basically a normal church service filled with praises and hallelujahs and yelling. The pastors even advertised their Sunday services multiple times.

Ok, rant done. sorry. :))

What's important is that we were there supporting Stevie's family. And while they didn't notice us there at the time, Marvel and his girlfriend Shar stopped us on a road yesterday and begged that we come teach them. Elder Teichert and I were totally caught by surprise. Man, I love those two. Who would have thought when we went by last night that a whole house full of incredibly shady family members of Stevie (who was most definitely a dealer) would welcome us in and start asking questions about heaven? All on the street people honk, wave, and lean out their car windows at stop lights to talk with us. Centreville is a crazy, cooky little town, but it's one of a kind.

As happens naturally when a death comes across our lives, I've been thinking about how much hope has blossomed into my life in knowing God's plan for us. This mortal time on the earth is only but a dot (an insane hilarious incredible loving yet trying dot) on the whole spectrum of things. In knowing how short this time is and how important it is to make the most of it, I throw down experiences in the fullest for roller coaster adventures. Yet the knowledge of the bigger picture of life after death comforts me to let me know the adventures will never cease. I'll be climbing mountains, teaching holmes, and genuinely living life with a heart to God always. With this gem of hope it's up to me to share it with others. That there's hope in Jesus Christ's resurrection, in an everlasting life of happiness just waiting to be sought. Death is as natural as birth in our lives. It's bound to happen. Make the most of what time you have, whether you have a body or not.

Friendships are one thing I'm discovering last eternally. The familiar feeling you get when you reunite with a friend you haven't seen since day one in the mission, paired with a friend you haven't seen in only a week. It all spreads a happiness and love that everyone deserves to share. I can only imagine what it will be like when I reunite after another year :) You all are awesome. I love you <3

xoxo

Elder Burgess