Today, I once again rehearsed with a mutual friend the details of the death of a young woman who was a member of The Special Gathering and a deacon in our ministry within the mentally challenged community.  It was a sudden death about two months ago. 

This young woman came home from work feeling fine.  Suddenly she became ill.  She was rushed to the hospital, coding three times in the night.  After major surgery, she was suspended between heaven and her hospital bed for two weeks.  Then a series of strokes ripped her life from us.

Over lunch, my friend and I cried as I shared some of the details.  My mind and spirit are still in shock regarding this death.  Later this afternoon, I sat thinking how painful it still is for me to tell about her death.  I couldn’t help but see in my mind’s eye her mother.  This morning, she was standing with another volunteer from Special Gathering quietly weeping.  The mother is preparing to take a trip to visit her family for Thanksgiving.  The hurt is so deep that she can’t even begin to pack her bags. 

How often does the mother have to rehearse that painful night with the trauma and sadness that accompanies the details, I wondered.  How does she do it?  How can she bravely get up each day knowing that someone will inquire.  Someone will question.  The Rehearsal will begin, one more time. 

Death is still our enemy, even when we know for sure that God’s grace is covering every detail of a life given over to Him.  Time will eventually begin its healing process.  However, the throb of hurt and even guilt may never be fully erased, even for this Christian mother.  She calls it the “woulda, coulda, shoulda” syndrome. 

Are there things in your life that you find you must rehearse that bring pain?  Does The Rehearsal sometimes bring a release from a bit of the pain?  Is it possible that The Rehearsal may be part of our healing from grief?