His response was startling and unexpected: "A long day, but a good day!" A good day? Those weren't quite the words I would have chosen. It had begun that morning at 8 a.m. when our family had been picked up by the funeral car for the hour-and-a-half drive to Woodlawn Cemetery in Miami. There, nearly drowned out by the constant roar of jets taking off and landing at Miami International Airport, we had committed Mom's body to its last resting place.

Then, we had rushed back to Plantation for Mom's memorial service at Covenant Village. As we were ushered down to the front seats of the chapel on campus, it seemed strange to be in the same room where just three weeks before, we had gathered to celebrate Dad's 100th birthday. Now, the balloons had been replaced by floral sprays, and the sounds of laughter by the strains of familiar hymns being played on the organ and piano.

The service itself had been a moving one as we sang Mom's favorite hymns and read scripture passages that were precious to her. Our daughter, Sheri, had played a medley of hymns on the piano — hymns that she and Mom loved to play whenever they were together. This time, Sheri was accompanied by our grandchildren Bryan and Kirsten on their glockenspiels. Chaplain Bob Tenglin, Dad, my brothers and I had each given brief personal tributes to Mom.

Then Chaplain Jim Swanson shared with us God's word, using as his text, the very appropriate words of the Apostle Paul, "Singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart." We concluded by doing just that, singing the Doxology, the hymn Dad had sung, the moment Mom went to be with the Lord. Refreshments followed, lovingly prepared by the staff of Covenant Village. Finally, we had gathered as a family for a relaxed supper, knowing that the following day, we would all be going our various ways.

A long day ... an emotional day ... but a good day? Dad's comment kept going through my mind as I left him that evening. How can you say it's been a good day when you've just buried your wife, your partner of nearly 70 years, the one with whom you have shared your life, your ministry, your joys and your sorrows?

As I tossed and turned that night, finding it difficult to sleep, I slowly began to understand what Dad had meant. It had been a good day because we had been able to celebrate the wonderful impact Mom had had upon us ... because we had been reminded again of the rich heritage that was ours ... because we had been surrounded by friends that loved and cared.

But there was something deeper. Feb. 5 was a good day because we had a God that was faithful, a faith that was authentic. It was a good day because 2,000 years ago, in a cemetery on the edge of Jerusalem, Jesus Christ rose from the dead. Through that event, the world was changed forever. Death had been defeated! The grave had lost its sting. Hope had been restored! Eternal life was assured! Fear was gone!

Peter understood this well. When facing his own imminent death, he wrote, "Praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy, we have been born anew to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead ... In this, we rejoice.

Dad was right as usual. When you're Easter people, every day is a good day ... even the long ones!