Yet another funeral.

We awoke to the first freezing blast of Winter, with grey skies and a watery sun doing it's best to penetrate the thick layer of clouds.  The wind with icy tentacles curled it's way into, and under, and over, and eventually through the many layers of protective clothing.  This then would be the day we laid to rest my eldest sister's husband.  My last remaining brother-in-law.

We arrived at the church at the same time as the hearse, and the 30 strong choir from Soweto, who had very kindly been organised for the funeral, by the founder of the company my niece works for. The church was like a deep freeze.  Not a vestige of heat anywhere.  The wind whistled through the one open door and out the other, leaving us huddled together for warmth. South Africa is not equipped to cope with the cold at all.  There are about three really cold months in the year, and most of the time people just grin and bear it.

The flowers on either side of the altar, echoed the floral arrangement on the coffin.  Beautiful shades of cream and white, interspersed with the occasional deep shade of royal purple.  The service was one of great solemnity.  The presiding Deacon was a man who commanded great respect, without seemingly ever asking for it.  He was one of those rear individuals who engender the "Servant Leadership"  quality.  The message was a message of the unfathomable love of God, and how this great love never changes, no matter what.

After the service, we slowly snaked our way through the centre of town to the new cemetery situated on it's outskirts. Funerals are big business in South Africa, and Saturdays are the most popular burial days.  Despite the terrible weather, the cemetery was awash with funerals.  At least ten were taking place simultaneously.  There were cars coming and cars going, and there was quite a race on for the remaining parking spots.  At one point we got into a traffic jam and I felt it necessary to jump out of the car and and hold back some of the 4 x 4's, so that our little party could reach the freshly opened grave of my late sister.

With the freezing wind blowing straight into our faces, we all stood around holding onto one another, while the Deacon recited the committal.  The undertaker released the brake of the lowering mechanism and as my brother-in-law slowly made his last descending journey to join his "one and only", my sister, we were transported to another time and another space, as we listened to the angelic voices of the choir singing "How great thou art".  All I can say is, The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord.