Friday, September 11, 2026From the news

Finally at Rest: God's Tender Comfort in Long-Awaited Goodbye

Barbara Keating's delayed burial reminds us of God's nearness to the brokenhearted and the hope of resurrection through faith in Jesus Christ.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (NIV)

Psalm 34:18

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. (NIV)

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. (NIV)

Revelation 21:4

Dear friend, as you sip your morning coffee and scroll through the news, you may have paused at the story of Barbara Keating. Twenty-five years after the terror of September 11, 2001, when hijackers slammed a plane into the World Trade Center, her remains have finally been identified. Last year brought that bittersweet confirmation, and now her family gathers for the funeral they have waited so long to hold. Imagine the weight of those decades—the unanswered questions, the empty chair at holidays, the ache that time alone could not heal. It's a story that tugs at our hearts, reminding us how grief can linger like a shadow, even in a world that rushes forward.

In moments like these, we turn to the unchanging Word of God, where we find a Shepherd who knows our deepest sorrows. Psalm 34:18 whispers this truth: 'The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.' Barbara's family, and perhaps you reading this today, may feel that crushing weight. The psalmist doesn't minimize the pain; he meets it with God's nearness. Our heavenly Father doesn't stand at a distance, arms crossed. He draws close, like a father kneeling beside his weeping child. Whatever loss echoes in your own life—a loved one taken too soon, a dream shattered, a wound reopened by today's headlines—take heart. God is right there, in the quiet of your spirit, offering solace that the world cannot give.

This nearness leads us to a hope that transforms our grief. The Apostle Paul writes to the Thessalonians, a young church familiar with sudden loss: 'Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.' Notice how Paul honors the grief—it's real, it's human—but he lifts our eyes beyond it. For Barbara Keating, and for all who trust in Christ, death is not the end of the story. It's a sleep from which Jesus awakens us. Because He conquered the grave, we grieve differently. Not without tears, but with the anchor of resurrection hope.

Think of Barbara's family today, finally laying her to rest. The closure brings pain, yes, but also a step toward peace. In the same way, let us remember that our faith in Jesus reorients every goodbye. If you've placed your trust in Him—the One who said, 'I am the resurrection and the life'—then every burial is a prelude to reunion. This isn't wishful thinking; it's the promise secured by Christ's empty tomb. As you face your own trials this week, perhaps a doctor's report or a strained relationship, cling to this. Jesus' grace covers our frailty, His victory our defeats. Scripture invites us to live as those who walk in this light, comforting others with the comfort we've received.

And oh, friend, the story doesn't end in a graveside service. Revelation 21:4 paints the horizon: 'He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.' For Barbara, now fully known to God, this is already unfolding. For us, it's the future certainty that steadies our steps. In a world scarred by tragedy like 9/11, where thousands of families still carry invisible burdens, God's Word stands firm. It calls us to practical discipleship: pray for Barbara's loved ones today, reach out to someone grieving nearby, and rest your own heart in Jesus. Let these truths seep into your day—into your work calls, your family dinners, your quiet evenings. God's mercy is new every morning, His presence steadfast through every storm.

As we reflect on this long-delayed farewell, may it stir your soul to deeper faith. Not in frantic striving, but in simple trust: Jesus holds the broken pieces, mends the crushed spirit, and leads us home. You're not alone in your hurts; He's nearer than your next breath. Take heart today, beloved one.