George and Rosie loved each other deeply, so much so that during the forty years they were married, they did everything together They were inseparable in every area of life . . . except one. When George drove Rosie to church every Sunday, she went into church, and George sat out in the car and read the Sunday papers.
In time, Rosie died, and for many Sundays after that, church members looked in the parking lot, but George’s car was no longer there.
Several months later, on Easter Sunday morning, George’s car appeared again, and this time, George went into the church. The preacher delivered a stirring message on the resurrection, and then, as was his custom, he invited the members to respond.
At that moment, George stood up, and with deep emotion, announced boldly and loudly, “ROSIE LIVES.”
Then George began to sing, “My wild Irish rose, the sweetest flower that grows . . .” One person joined in, then another, and finally the entire congregation was joyfully singing what someone described as, “The most beautiful Easter Hymn ever sung in our church.”
So it was with Rosie. So let it be with you.