A Grateful Gift

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.

John 14:3

On Monday, August 30, 2010, I officiated my first funeral at The Lutheran Church of the Covenant.  It was an end to a stressful week in which I had at one point seven people hospitalized.  The lady whom I buried was 91 years old and had been in deteriorating health for quite some time.  I first visited her one month into my call at Covenant.  She wanted to meet so that, in her words, “I could go ahead and bury her.” 

But over the course of time we had wonderful visits and I grew quite fond of her.  As she lay in the hospital I reflected on my own mother and her final days.  Her two adult children were able to take her home, where she died early Thursday morning.  Both of them were admirably well composed throughout the dying, the arrangements, the viewing, the service at the church, and the committal at the cemetery. 

It was a fabulous service with four traditional hymns:  “Abide With Me,” “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” “Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me,” and “How Great Thou Art.”  Another parishioner also sang “The Navy Hymn” as a solo.  I preached from the 14th chapter of the Gospel of John, highlighting that as God’s people, we want to be where God is (see the text above).

It is in situations like this that I give thanks again to God for my mother because, in dying, she made me a better pastor.  She prepared me.  Going through that experience has helped me to accompany others in their grief.  I am not detached or indifferent to their emotions because I KNOW what they are going through.  My compassion is genuine and hopefully gives comfort to those who mourn.  It is a gift my mother has given me and it keeps on giving, to use a cliché.

I thank you again, Mother, for all you were and all you continue to be.

One Year

But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness.
                                                              Romans 8:10

April 10, 2010, marked one year since my mother died.  Unlike last year, it fell after Holy Week and it was also a Saturday.  (She died on Good Friday of 2009).

My wife, two of my sisters and my niece and her brood all visited the cemetery and after some time of standing around and reflecting, we held a brief commemoration service. 

Linda, my wife, and I headed home since I had an afternoon worship service.  It was a solemn ride.

It was good to get together as a family and remember.  One of Mom’s chief concerns was that we remain united as a family.  There has been some fragmentation over the course of the past 12 months, but I’m hoping that is a consequence of the grief that some of my siblings have still not resolved.  Relationships have been strained at times.  However, I sense they are getting better.

I have no poem with which to close.  But I am glad to have made this entry.  It has been a while. 

I still miss my mother.  I guess that’s something one never stops doing.