Right at Home

He never really felt quite at home.

He stumbled

He fumbled

He got bucked off

He prayed

He stood

He picked up

He got back on

He loved to fish…wasn’t much on catchin’

He listened—especially to a child.

He smiled when he cried.

He saw:

Big in little

God in dirty

Strength in weak

He said: 

                “Take yer time—you’ll get there faster”

                “If you don’t quit you win”

“Just ‘cuz you can—don’t mean you should”

“Can’t clean a fish before you catch it”

“Words are powerful”

 “A love filled prayer, in the hands of faith, is the strongest force on earth”

“Everybody matters”

He spelled unique—YOUnique

He lived simple, quiet and slow

When he failed, he prayed…he prayed, often.

His Hero was Jesus—which made all the difference.

He believed the nursery rhyme:

Merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream…and when you die—you truly wake.

And now—he’s truly awake.

He never really felt quite at home...until now.

~

Film at 11: My Own Eulogy

I have to admit I have imagined being at my own funeral. I know, I know: technically, you are at your own funeral. However, since I believe that death will bring me face to face with my Savior, I doubt I will also be present in spirit where loved ones may have gathered to remember me. Unlike Tom Sawyer and Huck, I won’t be shocking family and friends by walking into my own funeral.

A eulogy is different from an obituary. An obit is factual and in printed or electronic form; a eulogy is delivered in person at a funeral or memorial service, usually with praise about the deceased, with some creative flair. Since I am uncomfortable at praising myself for 20 minutes (is that how long a eulogy should be?), I will proceed with praising others who have made my life worth eulogizing.

If I cannot be at my own funeral in spirit, at least I can be there in film. In a culture where people record the most inane of events on YouTube, pre-taping the great goodbye is not too far-fetched:

“I love you. I love that you came to say goodbye to me. I love you for being among many of the people I have loved and laughed with. I especially love you, Tim, and you, Sam, Maggie and Emma. Besides my Savior Jesus, you are the center of my life. You were amazing children to raise--I am including you, Tim! ;)--you have each made me proud. Each day with you was a gift, and even now I am chuckling about all of our private jokes and laughter over movies, Dad’s quirky songs, Apples to Apples, and all of life’s craziness. Keep laughing and be kind to one another. Those are God’s medicine for a world prone to sadness. Tim, you really are the kindest and best of men--yes, that is a Jane Austen quote. I cannot leave this life without at least one or two.

To my sisters, thank you for being such good friends along my journey, even when we could not stand one another way back when. Thank you, Ann, for sharing your love of good food and wine and museums. Thank you, Lois, for being so darn cheeky and fun. And by the way, neither of you can steal my I.D. to enter the pearly gates. For my brother Des, I forgive you for giving me a bloody nose a couple of times when we were little. I probably deserved it.

Kate, my dear mother, all that tea you made me probably killed me. Just kidding. I really don’t know what caused my death, but I know it wasn’t you. I think. Just kidding, again, Mom! I love you, and love to tease you. You mean the world to me, as does the rest of our extended family. I am so thankful that God placed me in the midst of a large, fun Irish family--I won’t ever forget the many Curran kindnesses shown to my family and me.

Hello, friends! Chris, you were my inspiration for hospitality and intercessory prayer. Rhonda, you are my soul sister. Debbie, you taught me much about worship music. Judy, Joan, Robin, Mo and Shell: graciousness personified. Sharon, you taught me to laugh at myself and exemplify servanthood. Sandy, thank you for taking the time to mentor a young believer. I can’t mention each one of you; I wish I could. But we would be here all day, and this is really supposed to be about me, not you.

To my in-laws, thank you for your love and for the amazing son you raised. I can never repay you for your love and generosity to our children, your grandchildren.

Gordon-Conwell people, you are so dear to me and in my thoughts and prayers. At least I think you are. I could be really busy talking to Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Martin Luther and C.S. Lewis, and my grandmothers right now. And then my father and I have an appointment to read the Wall Street Journal cover to cover after praising God for a millennium or two.

But lastly--and yes, Tim, I will have the last word--I really hope and pray that each of you--especially my children--will remember something I told you or showed you about God. I hope I did. If not, what a waste. Not that time spent with you was a waste, but I wasted precious time if I did not love you more and myself less. If I had, I would have made sure you knew that Jesus saved me from death and from myself, and how much I want you to know His love and saving grace.

Some of you have told me my laughter is infectious. Or annoying. You know who you are. Well, so is God’s love. Infectious, I mean--not annoying! I pray I shared both love and laughter.”

My Eulogy (Some Day!) by Jenna Vick Silliman

Jennifer Elizabeth Vick Silliman (Jenna) was born on February 18, 1958 and died at age 107 on March 1, 2065. Born in San Francisco, California she was the daughter of James Allan Vick and Jacqueline Frances Pearson. She was married to Clifford Arthur Silliman (Cliff) who preceded her in death. Together they had eight children, Daniel James (Married Elizabeth Jarvis), Valerie Joy, David Arthur (Married Charisa Nelson), Michael Aaron, Joshua Andrew, Stephen Matthew, Luke Thomas, Peter Stanford and ___ grandchildren… and ___great-granchildren…[It will be glorious to have a long list of all the grandbabies here!]

Jenna was raised in the San Francisco Bay Area and attended Canada, a community college, for two years studying general education. She married Cliff at age 22 and homemaking was her chosen career. She resided in Sequim, Washington for 65 years.

Jenna met the Lord Jesus at the age of 16 and followed Him all her life. She delighted in meditating on Scripture and sharing spiritual insight through her writings and teaching children. Jenna was a glory dancer and a flagger in worship of the Lord Jesus and wrote a book about this called “Shall We Dance?” She also taught folk dance to both children and adults. She was a member of the Sons of Norway for ___ years. She was a published author and also self-published many booklets on a wide variety of subjects regarding mothering, healthy living, and the life of the Christian. Jenna visited nursing homes every week and enjoyed leading sing-a-longs and dancing for the residents. She was known for her colorful clothing and joyful attitude and will be missed by many.

It's OUR Turn

I am going to skip the retreat this week because I have been thinking about other things this week. Yesterday, a 95 year old woman passed away early near the break of dawn. There will be no coverage on CNN or Fox of this death. She will have a small obituary in a newspaper that no one heard unless you live in Waynesboro PA. 

She was the lifelong friend of my mother who I am sure was there to greet her when she entered heaven's gates. She was a very small woman but with the grit and determination of women and men much larger than she. I met her several times as a child. I knew she had been the maid-of-honor at my parents wedding, causing the wedding to be late. She'd come to visit it us occasionally in Brooklyn. In retrospect, I wonder why it was so seldom. An hour on the subway separated these two girls from Waynesboro living in Brooklyn. 

I also knew she was the one who invited my mother to church when they were girls, living on Wayne Hill. I would hear of the three large families living there, the Potts', the Calimer's, and the Bumbaugh's. The Calimer's and Potts' were pentecostal in a town that still wasn't sure what to do with these holy rollers. Soon my mother became a holy roller too and she would long the steep hill up and down to go to church. 

Some day, I need to tell the story of the spite fence and my mother's trip to NYC to work for Jewish people in Flatbush. But not today.

Today, I want to share what I shared yesterday on my own blog, Sounds of Hope. A saint of God has gone home. Heaven noticed. I noticed. Saints of God are leaving us every day, every hours. They need us to fill their places. 

When I was a child I used to hear sermons of hell

      Someone would say they saw it

         The vision of people falling into a fiery pit imprinted on my soul

             I’d wonder and fear, cry and repent…

                    Now I only think of another line, the line of saints going home

I see them in line, in robes of white with sparkling crowns

      As they near the throne, they stop and bow

            They bow as they have always bowed, before the Lord of Lords

I see my godly mother and father, flawed and imperfect made whole by the blood of the Lamb.

      I see them together again, worshipping their Lord

             They gave there best, they gave me life, they gave me LIFE – they gave me

Jesus

I see my Sunday School teachers and Pastors of my childhood

     I see so clearly their imprint on my life – a heritage of holiness and faith

              I see those I only saw in photographs, my grandparents and my mother’s childhood pastor

I see the saints from Waynesboro that formed my mother’s faith

     I see especially the one at the end of the line who entered heaven’s portal this morning

        So many are there to thank her for her life, witness and faithfulness.

            I see her family gather round her, what a heritage

               Her friends join in the joyful reunion, 

                     the Pott's

                     the Bumbaugh's

                     the Calimer's

                     the girls of Wayne Hill.

Just like the late night reunions by the street light

            They join together under the light of the Lord

They giggle, hug, and laugh, they are home. Home at last.

I see them; I see hundreds of them –

I wonder who is teaching the Sunday School now.

              I wonder who is sharing God’s love through a smile, a touch, a card, a song…

                   Do you see them? 

I see them

I see them as they briefly leave the worship of the throne and look at us

They are looking to see if we are coming behind them.

I wonder will we hear well done, good and faithful?

ONLY ONE LIFE WILL SOON BE PAST

ONLY WHAT'S DONE FOR CHRIST WILL LAST

Hebrews 12:1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.