Charlie has been struggling with illness all of his life, and the difficulties of keeping his medications in balance is taking a toll. When I saw him this last week, he was in bed with a migraine. We talked for a few minutes, and I said a prayer. He then said, "When illness finally takes hold, there is actually some relief, even in the pain. A sort of innocence."
"God?," I asked.
He then surprised me. "I would like to sing." I have had migraines, but never one that inspired singing. He continued as if he heard my surprise, "Yes, just a verse or two of How Great Thou Art, you know, the one written by Martin Luther. I smiled. Lately, Charlie has been attributing more and more hymns to Martin Luther.
"Charlie, are you Lutheran?"
"Oh, yes." And so we sang.
I think of that God filled place of innocence as I think of Heidi Skidmore, a friend who passed last night. I shall miss her exuberant faith and encouraging notes and comments about my writing. Her laughter and her tears blessed me in seminary. Thank you, Heidi, for being, for singing, for crying, and for laughing - for making room for a friend through it all.
When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
and there proclaim, my God, how great thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee;
how great thou art, how great thou art!
- written by Stuart K. Hine, who was inspired by a poem by Carl Gustav Boberg that was written during a thunderstorm. Perhaps with a helping hand from Luther. Who knows? I am learning to dismiss very little these days.
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