Friday, October 19, 2007

Dearest God,

I got the call at 7:30 a.m. Jeno had just died. I pulled on my clothes and left immediately. When I arrived most of the family were already there. I hugged each one as I met them. Vicki was sitting on the porch. His beloved wife of eight years she held on as she cried into my shoulder.

As I stepped into the bedroom Jeno lay quiet, his spirit already gone from the room. His small frame had been eaten away by cancer. Jim was still holding his hand. He said he couldn't let go until I came to pray.

I stayed for a long time comforting, helping, guiding them with the service since I couldn't be there to officiate. Their friend Ruth helped with all the details.

There is no doubt about it, God lives in this home. Not in the traditional sense of things. There are no obvious symbols and signs like crosses or pictures of Jesus. It's the love they share with one another. The love they offer to one another. Love binds this family together.

Although the interior of the house is very dark, light shines through the people who enter. And when light meets light, something happens.

I invited everyone into the bedroom one last time before the morticians took his body. We held hands, put arms around one another, stood close in the small bedroom. And we prayed, "Our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name..."

Light of the World,
you shine
in every darkness.
You reveal yourself
and we find
we are not alone.
How grateful
our hearts are
when we trust
in you,
when we lean in
your way,
when we feel
your strong shoulder
upon which we
can cry.
You are
the rock
upon which we stand,
steady, strong,
unmoving.
When the winds blow
we do not fear
because the ground
upon which we stand
will remain
steady.
Let the wind blow
for we stand
with you.

Love, Andrea