In My Heart

We were met this week with some sad news about a dear church friend who passed away. George may have been elderly, he may have had heart problems which were impacting his life quite heavily, but death always comes as a shock, doesn't it? You can prepare for a funeral, and have living arrangements for a surviving spouse in place, but you can never prepare one for the grief and loneliness that accompanies this most unwelcome of all experiences.

Dean and I both went to the visitation at the funeral home last night. Even though Dean has steered clear of our growing home church the last couple of years due to his dementia, I felt this might be a "safe place" for him to see some of his friends and express his grief to Virginia, since Dean knew the couple so well.

And he did a fair job of greeting every person there, even though he "recognized" many people he had never met, and couldn't remember the names of some of our closest friends. The highlight though was when he took Virginia's hand and asked to pray for her. It was a touching prayer and reminded me of the one he had long-distance on the phone with our sister-in-law after the sudden death of Dean's brother a couple of years ago.

Each death and funeral I attend is a painful reminder of what it will be like to lose Dean someday. I think what I will miss most will be his prayers. They may appear on the surface to be long and repetitive, but I try to listen closely, because he always surprises me with their depth.

The other night, for instance, he started out with the Lord's Prayer, but he made one slight change. He said, "...Thy will be done, in my heart as it is in heaven..." I'm sure this was not a mistake.

Help me, Lord, to accept in my heart whatever Your will demands.

Ernie's Tribute

Yesterday I attended the funeral of someone many in our church would call a spiritual giant. He was just-turned-98 Ernest Long and he was a favorite for people to visit, because instead of blessing him, you were always the one who felt blessed. This was mentioned repeatedly by those who spoke at his funeral.

Ernie attended my Sabbath School class many times over the past few years. I sometimes made it a point to speak to him privately before class, because he always had a wise thought gem about the lesson that he wanted to make sure got shared with the class.

Pastors found that their prayer for Ernie after a home or hospital visit was followed by a passionate prayer by Ernie for the pastor that often brought a tear to the eye. His name certainly described his prayer life--earnest.

One of the secrets to this fervent prayer life of his may be attributed to a book he shared with me on one of my visits. The author was E.M. Bounds. I found this Christian classic of the nineteenth century a powerful guide to revitalizing one's prayer life and something I really needed at the time.

Ernie's life of devotion to family, his country (as evidenced by his many military honors), and most of all to his faith will be a powerful legacy to all who had the privilege of knowing him. The church yesterday was not packed, but was definitely full. If all of the lives he touched over the past 98 years could have been there, they would have had to rent a sports stadium. May you rest in peace, dear friend, knowing that you were loved and will be sorely missed.

Of all he had, Ernie was most proud of the roses in his yard!

Funerals--the Beginning and End of It

I went to a funeral this afternoon of a good friend and teacher, Joanne Perrault. This was one of those sudden, surprise endings of a life, well-lived. She leaves behind a vast army of little ones she has taught over the years. I can't think of a time when I didn't see a smile on her face. She truly loved all her "cherubs", as she called them, who were in her charge. She certainly brought out the angelic side of those children with her peaceful, loving ways.

Funerals bring to our attention the fact that life has its beginning but also has an end. And yet for those who love God supremely, the end is really a beginning too. Joanne's next conscious moment will be of meeting her Savior at His return to this planet and beginning eternal life with Him and all her cherubs.

Sad as funerals are, I think I'll keep attending them. For the simple reason that God is there, dispensing comfort and love to all who don't refuse it. After my parents' deaths a year ago now, it seems that I've been attending alot of funerals. I think God knows I need them. Who has enough comfort?