I sat in the very last row of a packed chapel during the funeral service. It was a gesture of respect for those who were closer to the deceased. I barely knew her. My presence was a result of the coincidence of association by marriage.

Yet, as the service proceeded, I felt my eyes brim with tears as I felt the pain of those in the room who were more directly impacted by this loss. The feeling of grief was like a cloud that settled gently across the room, affecting all who attended the service.

My heart ached as I watched the daughter step up to the podium and bravely play her part in the ceremony honoring her mother. Tragically, she had lost her father barely a year earlier.

For a moment, I remembered when I was close to her age and was thrust into adulthood when my mother assigned me the task of making the funeral arrangements for my father. In addition to my grief at the time, I remember being frightened and unprepared for this unwanted adult responsibility.

Now it was her turn, and my heart ached for this brave, traumatized young woman. I could only pray that the power of the love that filled that room would fill her with hope and comfort.

And like so many others in the room, like so many others over the centuries, I questioned – why do we need to suffer so? How can a loving God subject us to such pain? Why do we have to endure the death of our loved ones?

In the days that followed, released from the burden of emotional weight of the ceremony, I was able to use my logical filter to find the answers.

It goes without saying that, if every human who ever lived was still alive today, the earth would be a very crowded place. It is unlikely that the earth could provide enough food sources to feed that many. For that reason alone, death is a vital part of the equation that defines existence on this planet. Each death makes room for a new life. And it applies to all living things on earth. God is, it would seem, is the ultimate recycler.

If we take our logic a little deeper, we must concede that there is ample evidence that there is an existence beyond death’s door. If we continue to exist after the demise of the physical body, that existence may be in a spiritual realm which requires no space. We may exist only as a form of energy which takes up no room. Even if our spiritual being requires some space, freed of earth’s bounds, there seems to be ample room in an unlimited universe.

More importantly, for those who mourn, is the question of why we don’t receive relief from our pain. Where is the love from a  loving God? Where is the comfort from the deceased who promised to always be by our side?

There are occasional hints. Stories abound of brief visits or glimpses from those who have passed on. Yet, most of us do not have that experience. Why not?

The logical answer is that we are blinded and deafened by the overwhelming volume of the input from our own five senses. The same input that we rely upon in our earthly existence becomes our greatest handicap to receiving signals from the spiritual realm. Perhaps God, or our loved ones, attempt to give us messages of comfort, but we can’t hear them because of the din of our grief.

Or, perhaps our loved ones, at peace in their new, untroubled heavenly existence, smile upon us, secure in the certainty that all will be well and that our grief is but a pin-prick in our existence in eternity.

Although the pain of the loss of a loved one is a heavy burden, perhaps understanding that there is a purpose to God’s design, and that our loved ones do indeed rest in peace and joy, is the key to finding peace in our grief.