Of Home and Heaven and All That Is In Between

Yesterday was not an easy day.  Early in the morning I learned that the wife of a good friend of mine had passed.  My heart was heavy, and there was more than one moment when I wondered how I would lead the four services scheduled that day.  Yet, I knew that to reschedule those services would prove to be difficult, so I decided to go on as planned.  After the second service, the activities director was arriving just as the pianist and I were leaving.  "I am sorry to be late," she said, and then went on to explain a family complication that had arisen.  "But I knew the two of you were coming and that all would be okay."  And, of course, it was. 

 

In the fourth home, I was grateful to see the activities director come in.  When I saw her in December, she told me she was leaving the convalescent hospital.  Yet she looked so distraught that day I had to ask her if she was sure.  After all, she had worked there for many years.  She hugged me and nervously said yes, it was time to go.   However, in January, I heard she had returned.  Yesterday, I saw her before she saw me.  I surprised her with a greeting of "Welcome home!"  She gave me a wide smile and a much needed hug.  "Yes, I am home."  

      

I asked about Mrs. Chin, whom I knew had been in the hospital.  I was told that she was back, but "was not doing well."  I went to visit her.  She was very weak.  I took her hand and called her name.   She looked up, said nothing, but she did hold on to my hand.  We have worshiped together for many months, so I felt comfortable saying a prayer aloud for her, and stayed for a few minutes until a nurse arrived.  As I walked out of her room and into the hall, I noticed a bulletin board with the artwork of some of the residents.  I was stunned to see a beautiful picture painted by Mrs. Chin.  In the center of the picture is a man who is holding a basket of flowers, and a woman who is holding a tidy purse.  They are walking, hand in hand, away from us, into a garden full of colorful flowers. They are young, and have nothing but beauty, color, and a clear blue sky ahead of them. I found myself praying again.  I had just been given a glimpse of Mrs. Chin's heaven.        

 

And he walks with me 

and he talks with me  

and he tells me I am his own

and the joy we share 

as we tarry there 

None other has ever known.   

                                                     - In the Garden 

                                                       C. Austin Miles     

 

Today, I take the time to weep for those who are going ahead.