In Memory of the late Mrs Neo

I was awakened by high pitching tone on my mobile. Call was from Pastor early Saturday morning. My gut feeling tells me its not good. Pastor uttered, “Adeline Neo passed away this morning at 1:30 am…”

C S Lewis in grieving for his beloved wife, wrote a book entitled, “A Grief Observed.” Jack greatly mourned the passing of his wife. Jack, a bachelor for many good years, was an Oxford professor and later also Cambridge, was a great Christian thinker, writer and whose literary skills and works are second to none. He found it hard to meet women who equaled with him on intellectual matters, much less qualify as his wife, until he met Helen. He loved Helen deeply and passionately. So when Helen passed away due to cancer, Jack was heart broken. A Grief Observed was an honest, account of love and of one’s hurts and pains.

I have been thinking of what C S Lewis wrote, “Grief is not a point on a line, but a process.” Grief is not something you get it over with, not sure whether it even gets eroded with time. We are continually acquainted with grief. The picture that hangs on the wall of the loved one, brings a painful reminder. A birthday card that we received brings another reminder. Without digging deep into our memory, we have enough memories that pained us when the image of our loved one appeared. We do not know which is easier, to forget, or to remember. Initially, we are stricken with utter sadness. Sadness that sometimes caused us to weep uncontrollably, like a child. Until the reality that the person we loved, can no longer be with us, we experienced lost. We are numbed in the heart, our chest bears a heavy and weary front, our fingertips has a prickly sensation, and every part of us has a sour feeling. We know not what the days ahead hold. When we are left all to ourselves, loneliness sets in. The things that interests us so much before, command not a second look by us. The favourite seat remained unfilled. The favorite pillow laid undisturbed, the well used mug remained on the rack, and the favorite book is left unfinished. We have lost interest in things, in perspectives, in life. The laughter that filled the room and which had brought so much joy and gladness, traded places with air of stillness, gloom, and pain. Memories, oh painful memories. Certainly, grief is a process.

“Pour your heart to him, for God is our refuge.” – Ps 62.8. The Psalmist invites us to pour our hearts to God . Is that supposed to be godly therapy? Engaging God in our pains and heartaches, what if I feel I have no energy nor mood to engage. God has robbed away a loving wife from Mr Neo, a devoted mother from Richie and Carol, a caring sister to Robin, and a warm friend to us all? What else is there to talk? Nothing else mattered! Yes, God, we are pouring such a question to You. Would you mind answering it? How can any good be derived from such great loss and a grief? God, you just don’t know what it is to grief for the loss of someone dear. In the same breath, my eyes happened to lay on the cross. The Cross? Surely, the place where the willing Son of God, died for the rebellious, and unwilling people. The meeting place of the love sacrifice of the best for the worst, the priceless for the worthless, and the holy for the ugliest of the sinful. The day when God wept and grieved but yet, it is still in His perfect will. In the cross, we see good deriving from the death of the man from Galilee who had not an iota of sin.

Am I supposed to pour out everything to God? Everything? Even the not so niceties? You promised to be my refuge. My mind couldn’t think, I looked up the dictionary to see what the word truly means. Security? Hiding place? Shelter? Another verse, immediately spring to mind. “You are a shelter in my right hand.” God, you promised to be our refuge, our hiding place, a place where can hide out from the bombs and artilleries of pain and suffering, and to be able to come out safe and intact, every faculties of ours intact. You promised also to be the shield in my right hand. You know that it is my right that lies all my vulnerabilities, all my discomforts, all my pains, all my grieves, all my fears, all my tears, all my heartaches, all my imperfections and all my weaknesses. I am supposed to pour out everything from my heart to you and yet feel that I am safe and secure under your bosom. God, sometimes I just do not know what to do, but I want my eyes to be on you. God promises to pitch his tent (tabernacle) in our weakness. There is glory in our groaning. God had pitched his tent with mankind when “God became flesh, and dwelled among us.” God is pitching his tent with all the saints that had been called home to him. And God will continue to pitch his tent in our hearts, to bear testimony to his goodness in every of our weaknesses.

I heard the eulogies from Richie on how good a mother the late Mrs Neo was and from Robin Ong, (Mrs Neo’s brother) who returned from Portland, Oregon, on how sacrificing a sister, Adeline was. Sorry I missed eulogy from Mr Neo. Adeline gave up two golden opportunities to further her studies abroad so that she can look after the affairs of her siblings. I echo what Pastor said, “Adeline has fought a good fight, have finished the race and have kept the faith.” We celebrate the legacy that the late Adeline Neo has left for her husband, children, brother, sister, and friends. We honour her life lived well. She is among the saints called to a place, with eternal brightness, fragrance of freshness surrounds it, the multitudes all robed in white like beads of pearls on the shores of heaven. She realized that her legs no longer ached her. Her arms no longer bear blue and black. Her breathing, if required, had been deep and effortlessly. A place void of any pain and tears. It appears unbeknown to her, her frailty had been exchanged into perfect strength. Lightweighted, she securely felt. Her lips are singing the hymns of eternal praise, and crying out “Holy, Holy, Holy, Worthy is the Lamb.” The melody that she miraculously heard 4 times before some 1.5 years back, is being sung over and over again in the company of God’s saints who had a seal on their foreheads in her homecoming celebration. She found herself having a seal on her forehead too. The Apostles are there greeting her and embracing her with such tenderness and endearment. Peter, the keeper of the pearly gates, looked on approvingly and with joy that could not be contained. Beyond it all, the Great Shepherd awaits her there to give her a crown of righteousness, and for her to examine the scars on his side and palms. The brightness of her face shone through and she is unable to stop expressing joy and laughter. She sees many people, some she knows and many she does not yet, but then in that place, its is goodness, and holiness in getting to know the other saints and listen to their salvation stories. The pavement is all paved with gold and precious materials, but that did not attract her. Not even the luxurious mansion prepared for her enticed her to remain in the mansion a little longer to savor it. Her gaze was fixed on the GREAT I AM, the One who mattered most, the Lord Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and Samuel worshipped, the Jehovah that led the great multitudes from the earthly place Egypt that she read so much about. All was silent when she was ushered into His great white throne, and the words which she so longed to hear for all her Christian life, being uttered with so much gutso and sheer joy, “Adeline, thou great and faithful servant, enter into the joy of thy Master.”