Three Confessions and a Funeral

My Uncle Paul died on July 3, 2014 at the age of 91.

I got an email from my dad asking me to go to the memorial service.

First confession: I didn't want to go. If I'm honest, that was my first thought.

My second thought was this:

"You're selfish."

I showed up to the memorial service. I was late and wearing heels that inappropriately CLACK, CLACK'ed their way down the aisle.

[I can't really walk in heels--even comfortable, conservative size 8W heels purchased at Payless.]

Selfish. Selfish.

I sat in a pew in Sky Rose Chapel--high vaulted ceilings, stone floors, over-cranked AC--and listened to an account of my Uncle's life narrated in Chinese. My Uncle Paul had served as pastor of South Bay Chinese Christian Church for 33 years. He became a Christian in 1950 and moved from Taiwan to the United States in 1969.

I read the bulletin.

Printed there were these lyrics in Chinese and English:

What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!
Oh, what peace we often forfeit, oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer! 

Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged--take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful, who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer. 

Second confession: Shoes.

I once "borrowed" my Uncle Paul's Nike sneakers when I had no comfortable shoes to wear home and "forgot" to return them.

Selfish.

But sitting in that freezing chapel, hearing and reading about my Uncle's life--and not only that, remembering the kind of man that he was--

Gentle. Incredibly gentle. Kind. Patient.

We weren't close, but I can remember him sending me off multiple times over the years after a visit or stay at his and Aunt Mona's house, always walking me outside to the driveway and praying to God for me in Chinese.

For my protection. For my blessing. For my safety.

A father's blessing. A father's gentleness. A father's forgiveness.

I cried. I cried because I'm me and I was at a funeral.

I cried because I had carried this burden of SELFISH for a very, very long time.

I cried because I had accepted this burden from someone that I loved (and it can be so hard to refuse burdens from those that you love).

I cried because in that moment I felt the gentleness and forgiveness of a God who does not condemn me. Who knows my every weakness and forgives me.

I cried because I felt like, "Hey, God wouldn't want me to carry this burden of SELFISH and I don't think my uncle would want me to either."

I cried because God is my father. And he is gentle with me.

Third confession: I'm still struggling to lay down this burden. And that's why I'm writing this.