My Son is an Angel

Decades after we opened a congregation for our church in Linda Vista to accommodate the large number of new members from the Hmong tribes of Laos and Vietnam, some of the families moved to Temecula. Temecula is a town about 45 miles north of San Diego.

One Hmong family that moved to Temecula was the first to have joined our church in 1980. They were instrumental in helping us start our congregation among the Southeast Asian refugees that included people from Laos and Cambodia. This family had moved to the central valley of California in the mid 1980’s along with many of their relatives.

One of the women in that family, Tang, called me with some tragically sad news. A single mother, Tang was distraught over the death of her only child, her son Joseph. I was deeply saddened as she told me the tragic story of his untimely death in a motorcycle accident. Since I had lost touch with the family for a number of years, Tang filled me in on what had happened and the background I had missed since our last meeting.

The family had been living in Temecula for a few years where some of the family members found employment at the local Indian Casino. Joseph was in his late twenties and married with two children. At some point, Tang bought her son a motorcycle. While riding one evening, he was hit by a drunk driver and suffered fatal injuries. The tragedy created immense guilt in Tang that seriously exacerbated her grief. She insisted on blaming herself for her son’s death because she bought him the motorcycle.

I immediately made arrangements to visit Tang the next day.

When I arrived the next day I found Tang distraught and visibly shaken as she explained to me the circumstances surrounding Joseph’s death. Amidst her outward grief, Tang explained that prior to his death, during a heart to heart mother and son talk, Joseph said that should he die, he wanted to be cremated. He wanted his ashes scattered at sea. At first, Tang dismissed this statement as her son was still very young and she didn’t anticipate such an early death of her son. When he was killed in the accident, Joseph’s words came ringing back to her.

To honor her son’s wishes, Joseph was cremated. During my visit, I attempted to comfort Tang and convince her that she was not guilty. I couldn’t convince Tang that her son was at peace. I offered to pray with her and the family in hopes that it would bring her some measure of peace and comfort.

After we prayed together, Tang asked me if I would join her and her father when Joseph’s ashes were to be buried at sea. Of course I agreed. We made plans to meet at their home a few days later for the journey to Newport where they had contracted a yacht for the scattering of the ashes.

The day of the scattering dawned and I drove to their home where I found Tang still in anguish, weighed down with incessant feelings of guilt. Before we left I prayed with her and the family, seeking to help her deal with such oppressive guilt.

We traveled to the mortuary in the town of Lake Elsinore and picked up Joseph’s ashes. Then we drove toward Newport marina some 85 miles north. Along the way I continued to work with Tang, gently seeking to help her with her deep emotional struggle. She kept saying to me, “If only I knew that my Joseph was an angel.”

After almost two hours on the road, we reached the marina. We walked along the docks until we reached the yacht that the family hired. Apparently, this yacht was frequently hired to perform the task of scattering a loved one’s ashes at sea. Since I was the only Caucasian with the family the Captain spoke to me first, not knowing that Tang spoke perfect English.

I realized by his sensitive demeanor that he was well experienced in providing a dignified procedure for scattering ashes at sea. He explained to me the procedure that they follow according to the legal requirements and his specific plan to maintain a very solemn and respectful program.

I explained to Tang and her father what the procedure would be and we took our places on chairs near the bow of the ship. The crew disembarked and we headed out into the bay.

There was a cool gentle breeze that wafted over our faces and gave us a refreshing feeling as we sailed out. We were approaching the spot for the scattering when the captain came to the bow area where we were sitting. He carried a basket that contained Joseph’s ashes now wrapped in a white cloth scarf neatly but loosely tied together at the top. He said to me that in a few minutes, the ship would be turned around and be positioned to be pointed toward the shore.

With the ship in position, the captain asked if we wanted to say anything. First, Tang’s father offered up a prayer in his native Hmong language. Then Tang knelt down behind the basket of ashes and wailed, crying out, “Please let my Joseph be an angel!”

After Tang arose, she looked over at me and I offered up a prayer, specifically asking God our Father to bless Joseph and to give his mother Tang the peace that defies our human understanding. I asked too that He would send His Holy Spirit, the great Comforter to comfort Tang and her family as only He can do.

At the conclusion of the prayer, the captain led Tang to the basket that held Joseph’s ashes and instructed her how to hold the white scarf at the corners and position it over the edge of the ship’s bow.

Tang held the corners of the scarf that held her son’s ashes just as the captain had directed. The signal was given to the crew and the ship began to slowly move backward. At the captain’s word, Tang released the scarf and the ashes gently dropped onto the surface of the sea.

Tangs’ father, the ship’s captain and I stood at the railing watching as the yacht continued to slowly drift backwards. The ashes floated on the surface for a few moments before beginning to sink into the depths of the sea.

Suddenly, as the three of us and now Tang stood at the railing watching the ashes float upon the waters, they created the perfect form and image of an angel!

The captain of the ship poked me and whispered, “Do you see what I see? An angel!”

I said, “Yes! I see it too.”

For a brief moment I stood their stunned until the eerie silence was broken when Tang saw it too. I heard her excited scream declaring, “My son is and angel!”

In that miraculous moment, the oppressive weight of guilt was lifted from Tang’s heart and she was finally at peace. I rejoiced that God had answered our many prayers.

Slowly the ashes settled into the depths and the image of the angel drifted away, only to remain indelibly etched into our memories.

On the way home Tang asked me if we could have a memorial service for Joseph at our church in Vista. I told her that we would plan it as soon as possible.

Shortly thereafter we conducted a memorial service. I explained to Tang that Joseph was more than an angel; he was a child of God and as such was in a very special place in the heart and love of God.

Turning Point

It never ceases to touch my heart when I witness the extraordinary means that our God exerts on behalf of those He loves to comfort and sustain them in their most difficult days. These experiences are evidence of those famous words God gave to Paul when He said, “My grace is sufficient for you.” In our struggles of life, prayer changes us and our situation. We should not underestimate what God can and will do for us, if we will only believe and trust in Him.

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