Funeral of Edith Pierson – Psalm 121
Have you ever sat and watched the sun going down, been struck by the beauty of the sunset, the purples and reds and blues painted across the sky as the day that God has made comes to an end and the quiet of night takes over? There are few things more beautiful than that moment when the sun’s rays suddenly flourish into the sky and then disappear over the horizon. Edith, I think, would have liked to think of her death as beautiful like that, a last bit of artwork in the painting of her life as it came to a close. A long, summer day, filled with joy and warmth, sometimes oppressively difficult but always progressing on in the beauty of God’s creation, a work of art that overwhelms the senses and shines out to all. Edith was privileged to live until the shadows of the setting sun had lengthened and the evening had come; the business of the world was hushed, the fever of life was over; the artist put a few final brushstrokes on the painting of her life, and then the work was done. How beautiful is the sunset of a life like this.
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