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Writer's picturejenniferpoduje

Why God Moves at an Illegal Funeral

Updated: Sep 21, 2020

After suffering a massive stoke on Easter Sunday, my dad, Chuck Melia remained in a coma for thirty days before passing away one hour before his 63rd birthday. Per California mandates, our family was not allowed to hold a proper funeral or memorial. Essentially, proceeding with the funeral was illegal. We did it anyway...and God showed up.


In light of my dad's recent and illegal funeral, many people are asking my opinion on Covid19 and how the government here in California is handling the situation. I don't think any topic is off limits and that includes politics. If anything, Christians need to be more vocal about what Christ's role is in our culture and a large part of culture is politics.


Covid19 has brought a new framework into our lives, yet nothing about Covid is new. We have always had disease, we have always had fear and we have always had men and women who seize power during times such as these when people are willing to secure comfort and safety in exchange for their personal freedoms. And we have always had death. Death is not often a thing we embrace, yet death is a part of life. In fact, one of the few things we all can agree on is that there is life and then there is death. And God does not promise there will be no death, actually there is a guarantee of death (ashes to ashes) yet He does promise Life eternal, in that you will be raised from the dead and live anew in Him.


For all the people out there asking why didn’t He save your loved one: You prayed that they would survive, that they would be healed, and I’m here to say to you, God healed them the moment Jesus died on Calvary. You’re praying a prayer that was answered over 2,000 years ago. You are praying for their healing, for their saving, and it’s already been done. God has already saved them; your prayer has already been answered.


I am not saying this lightly because my dad died so recently it’s still a shock to even see those words in print. I still feel like I’m going to see him any minute, like he’s just around the corner. So I am intimate with death right now, I am no stranger to its sting. In fact, I’m devastated, so I do not minimize the deaths of those that passed with Covid19, but the fact that I couldn’t be in the hospital, that my mom couldn’t be there, that he was alone during his last days because of those Covid deaths, because their numbers were so unwieldy and wild, numbering in the tens of thousands, that it became legal to engage mandates issuing the refusal for anyone to see him. Not his brothers, nor his grandchildren. Not his wife of thirty-eight years. He lay in a coma for thirty days and all we could do was call, every day, and ask the nurse to put the phone to his ear. We would talk to him for hours, we would sing, play worship songs, so many times we sobbed to him, begging him to wake up, we spoke tongues over him, anointed him with oil.


But we couldn’t see him, we couldn’t touch him.


So no, I do not diminish the deaths of those who have died of Covid, but when the CDC revealed the number of actual US Covid deaths was only 6% of the total number and that the other 94% only died WITH Covid including car accident and drug overdose victims, when the life expectancy of an American is 78 and the median Covid death age was 80, I felt deceived.

I always felt the mandate that family is not allowed in the hospital during a loved ones last days was cruel, but now I know it is.


My point is to seek out the facts. Our emotions are not solid ground upon which to stand, especially on the front-lines of an important battle such as this. Truth is unwavering, it is solid, we can stand assuredly upon it. If anything does not seem right, question it. Look into, critically examine for yourself and rely on your findings not your feelings. Once you have found truth, then you must gather to yourself your emotion, and spread that truth with convicted passion from the valleys to the mountaintops.


During my dad's coma my emotions were not just overwhelming, they were more like a heinous blood splattered crime scene. Yet, it was my search for God's presence, my search for truth during that time that brought my focus upon the facts of God's sovereignty and not the frailty of my emotional state. I have never felt more in the Spirit and presence of God. I sought Him out, I searched for truth in His word, through prayer, through worship and tears, I pursued Him, looking for some truth that would save my dad. And God met me every time. He carried me when I couldn’t even crawl off the bathroom floor. He spoke His truth into me and He reminded me what happened to the rock at the grave in garden when God said, move! He moved the rock from the grave, the sea from the land, bones into armies, He moved the jaws of lions, bread from the sky, solar systems into sequential perfection, still hearts to beat, a baby to leap in the womb, He moved clouds by day and fire by night, He moved the hands of fishermen to write the word of God, He moves the mouths of men to call out His name, He moved His Son from heaven to earth, He moved His Spirit into the hearts of man, all to show us a fundamental truth: He will never leave us.


Now, this is the rock of truth I stand on, that my God never left me. And He never left my dad. In fact, they are together right now. The two best Fathers I could ever have.



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