In 1964, when the heart disease that had plagued her for years finally took Gracie's life, George Burns was inconsolable. The doctor asked Burns if he wanted to see Gracie one last time. "Of course I did," Burns says. "I wanted to stand next to her onstage and hear the audience laugh. I wanted to hear that birdlike voice. I wanted her to look up at me with her trusting eyes. I wanted to ask her just once more, 'Gracie, how's your brother?' "

For a time, Burns admits, "things were very, very bad for me. My life was Gracie. But then, about two months later, I started sleeping in her bed—we had twin beds—and things just started turning around for me."

At the age of 62, when most men are thinking of retiring, Burns found a new career. "I was retired when I worked with Gracie," he says. "I did nothing." Or as he puts it in the book: "For 40 years my act consisted of one joke, and then she died." A successful nightclub act that snowballed into TV appearances and movie roles proved that Burns could be funny on his own. 

I like this story of George and Gracie because it exemplifies the process of grief.  An inconsolable loss, followed by awful times.  And then--if we are fortunate-- new opportunities and new joy emerge.

Beginning on September 16th Pinnacle is offering a new program called “Loved and Lost.”  L&L is a grief support group which will meet monthly on the third Tuesdays  of each  month. Someone commented that a joy shared is a joy doubled and a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.  

Our church has had more than its share of memorials these past few weeks, saying goodbye to long-time members and parents of members.  We call these services a Witness to the Resurrection.

One of the most important things we do as a church is support the families of those who have lost a loved one as they go through the grieving process.  Our deacons provide a complimentary reception following these services to allow members and friends time to laugh and cry together, to share hugs and memories. 

Attending a memorial service reminds us that this world is not our final resting place and that none of us is promised tomorrow.  It helps us focus on what is eternal and to keep our daily struggles in perspective.  It also gives us brief glimpses into the lives of amazing people who come through our doors each week.  I have often left a service wishing that I had known the person better.

If you are able, come to the memorial services.  Come to remember.  Come to celebrate.  Come to be reminded of God’s promise of eternal life.  Come to regain perspective.  Come because we are a family, God’s family.  Come to hug your brother or sister in Christ.  Come even if you don’t know the person who died – you will know them when you depart.

Come to learn what God has done in their life and what God might be calling you to do with yours.