I was honored and humbled to play at a funeral this morning, the celebration of the life of Debbie Smith, Garrett's mom.

Walking through those chapel doors, I wanted to be the little girl I felt like in that moment, back in my childhood sacrament meeting where things made sense and all these adults were kind and smiling faces I walked by on the way to my family's bench, without any sadness or problems of their own. To when I looked up at the stained blue light pouring through those high high windows and felt whole and happy, snuggled in close to my sister and mom in our fancy sunday dresses.

But instead I walked in as an adult, viola case and stand under arm, and each face I saw I for some reason thought of instead all the sadness they must have surely seen in their lives, the disappointments and loss, the difficulties and stresses we all live with. I stared at the greenish carpet and began to twist those little black pegs, listening for the moment when the string pulled into an A, then D, G, C. Why should one woman, one family, be given such a heavy load? She bore it well, and we all admire her strength, but what a lonely road she walked, so quietly.

For the next two hours, we were taken back through her time on earth, as memories and lessons that had meant something were told. I sat ashamed almost that in such a short amount of time I learned more about her than I'd taken the time to do when she was alive. What a bundle of stories we all are. And what makes us cling so tightly to some, keep others intensely private, open up? How many of our stories are true? At the end of every funeral I've been to in recent years, I seem to arrive at the same resolutions: to get to know people better, to appreciate and use time intentionally, and to share myself more readily. After today, I add to that list the resolve to search more diligently for ways to help and connect meaningfully with others, and to use and share God's love.

This morning I was blessed to feel that rare but familiar warmth that life has meaning, that God is real, that love does matter.