Lonely Figure

While driving home from our Christmas trip to Michigan, I saw a lot different things through the windshield, but one site has continued to remain in my thoughts days later. We were driving south through Kankakee, IL on I-57 when off to my right I saw a cemetery. (My inquisitive mind has led me to the conclusion that is was Mt. Calvary Cemetery.) It was one of probably a dozen cemeteries we passed by on our trip and it had no special monuments or anything else out of the ordinary that should have kept my attention. However, this cemetery had something that none of the others had at the time we passed them.

On cold, windy winter's day, facing North into the snowflaked wind, meer feet away from a busy, noisy highway stood a man ankle deep in snow with his hands in his coat pockets and his hat pulled low on his head. In the brief moment that I was able to see him head on, his face appeared somber and grief stricken as he stared down at the grave of someone he obviously cared about deeply. The earth surrounding the grave did not appear to be freshly dug, so I assume that this was not an incredibly recent death of someone he loved. And just as quickly as I saw him, we had driven past him. I stole a couple of quick glances in the rear-veiw mirror and watched as he didn't move a muscle.

I told Lisa what I had seen a few minutes later and have wondered so many things since that time.
Who was this man?
Who was buried in the grave he was standing over?
How long ago had he lost this friend or family member?
How long had he known them before they died?
How many times has he stood in that exact same place?
Does he speak any words as he stands all alone in that place?
Does he have any family or friends remaining in his world?

So many questions that could be echoed for any person standing in any cemetery in the world.
And today, as I thought of this lonely figure, bracing against the cold to spend time in sorrowful reflection of one who has passed away, I thought of the following passage:

He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.  -- Isaiah 53:3-5

I'm thankful that when I do find myslef in times of grief and sorrow that my Savior, Jesus Christ is more than familiar with those feelings and He has endured them and conquered them. I pray that whoever that man in that cemetery is would come to know this Man of Sorrows and trust that He is enough for him and that He can comfort like no other.