The Cure-All

Fried chicken.  May the cardiac practitioners all over the world forgive me, but it's true.  Well, it is down South, anyway.  No church homecoming or potluck supper is complete without it.  Sunday dinner at Grandmama's is it's regular gig.  Funeral luncheons, summer picnics and the occasional baby shower (heart burn be danged)are also common venues for fried chicken.  When you've had really good fried chicken, nothing else will do and frankly, folks who say they don't like it...well, they've probably never had really good fried chicken.  It can get you through a really bad day and make a good day even better. 

I'm not alone in my thinking.  Today, about twenty minutes after the funeral service for one of our church's best and brightest, the youth group headed down the hill for lunch.  For fried chicken.  We'd just spent about ninety minutes reflecting on the life of our precious one....just nineteen years old.  His life ended last Friday morning and it was like a kick in the stomach to our church family and to the extended community.  We've all been reeling; our minds flooded with questions and with memories of him.  Our spirits have been awash in the lavish grace and enigmatic peace of God.  It was time to fill our bellies.  And to be quite honest, it was a fitting tribute to the one we laid to rest.  He was a carnivore.  Meat was his favorite food....and the more meat the better.  I think he would have had a conniption had Mr. Snark ever taken him to a Brazilian steak house...where they bring you meat until you tell them to stop.  Of course, the first trip might have been the last trip, too!  Most of all, he would have loved everyone being together...laughing...we haven't done a lot of that since Friday...and enjoying our time together.

I couldn't have loved that young man any more, save him being my own personal child.  He was one of mine...a son of my heart.  Some were intimidated by his gruffness.  Thankfully, God blessed me by allowing me to see past that to the beautiful, compassionate, tender heart beating inside him.  He was with us on the trip to NYC and was the first one to get to Mr. Snark after we found Y2.  He grabbed Mr. Snark up in a bear hug. Today, Mr. Snark was honored to be one of the ones who carried our sweet, young friend's casket.  Mr. Snark has had the privilege of being pall bearer for many.  This was the heaviest casket.

I've jokingly called fried chicken the cure-all for what might ail you in this life...and in some instances it really is.  But there is something else and I would be remiss if I ended this post without mentioning it.  My sweet friend has looked into the eyes of his Father God and been welcomed into Heaven.  Not because he was a good boy...because he was...not because he had a servant's heart...because he did...but he was welcomed into God's heavenly kingdom because of his faith in Jesus Christ.  He admitted that he was a sinner...because he was.  He believed that Jesus was the answer for his sinful soul...because he was...because he is.  He committed his life to Christ's service and never regretted a day.  And that's why he's in Heaven...and that's why I'm going to see him, again, one happy day! 

And maybe, we'll celebrate with fried chicken!