“Be still and know that I am God.”
~ Psalm 46:10
As I sit and write this morning's blog, I'm sitting outside the room of a dear lady who is no longer responding, but is resting comfortably. We had agreed that when she reached the point where she was no longer conscious that I would come, read to her Psalms and pray aloud for her, and that I am to treat her as if I am expecting a response.
I have loved the moments we have shared over the past six months, including planning her funeral, where she has basically dictated to me what I am to say, all the way down to the request for me to wear a yellow bow tie, have yellow balloons, and a detailed list of topics I am to cover.
One of the things that I often realize is that I am the one who will be left to tell a person's story. It is a sacred agreement.
She has been both transparent and candid with me, and we have both laughed and cried together. She has even made suggestions for my garden at home, and I actually have planted a tree in my back yard that she recommended. I call the tree by her name. A few weeks ago I realized that the tree has small thorns on it. When I told her about them, she said, "Oh, I guess I forgot to mention them. Did they surprise you? The tree is like me, I'm full of surprises."
As I sit and watch, I realize that peace has been actualized.
I recognize in moments like these that we live our lives at such a fast pace. We forget to consider the moments that we are living now. In the silence of the slow and steady breath, the great grace of God can be experienced. I am reminded to be still, and to wait. Our presence for one another can exist without words. It is just the knowledge that we are present.
In moments like these, I am reminded of God's presence, and that those who only seek God in the earthquake, fire, and wind, miss the moments to stop and allow silence, where God can be heard and felt.
I do miss her smile, and her words, but I am grateful for the body that is resting, knowing that it holds a spirit that is ready to make the journey home.
It is in times like these that I find the words to ask God to let my journey home be like hers, and to hear God say, "I will be with you, even unto the ends of the earth."
Stay in God's grip!
G. Todd Williams (c) 2019
Rev. G. Todd Williams lives in the Houston metro area and is a Hospice Chaplain and ordained Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) pastor.