Years ago a colleague said to
me, “I don’t do funerals,” when a designer we had worked closely with died. I
was indignant, because sometimes you do funerals out of respect for the one who’s
gone on and for family and friends. But in a lot of cases, I don’t do funerals
either. Today I attended one because I really wanted to. It turned out to be the
most uplifting and faith affirming memorial service that I think I’ve ever been
to. Faith is a very personal thing, and I usually don’t write about it, but
here I go.
The service was for Leah
Flowers, a longtime major lay figure at University Christian Church and wife of
a minister who taught for years in the Department of Religion at TCU. I saw his
fine hand in the scripture readings—all affirming God’s love for us, all looking
forward, never backward. The homily was given by Associate Minister Cyndy
Twedell, and she had us thoughtful one minute, a bit teary-eyed another (the
vision of Leah learning to break dance with a young son was touching) and
laughing the next. It was a wonderful tribute to a woman who loved her husband,
her family, and her church, and was always ready to welcome newcomers with a
smile and a handshake or a hug.
Leah loved to sing in the choir
and the choir sang today in her memory—“When I Survey That Wondrous Cross” and “How
Lovely Are Thy Dwellings.” The first one had my friend Betty in tears—she had
directed the choir as they sang that all across Europe and she was close to
Leah.
I’m struck by the impact the
service had on me. I came away uplifted, so grateful for my faith that sustains
me, so grateful for the loving church community of which I am a part. What a
blessing Leah was to the world, and what a gift the service was to me. Praise
be to God.
2 comments:
Nice. I remember that name and I'm sure my mother knew them. It sounds like you experienced a very fine moment celebrating a very fine life.
Susie, they may have kids your age you knew in school. Yes, your mom would know them. Leah worked in the psych dept. for years. I didn't say it but I sat behind a professor whose coat collar needed straightening, and it was all I could do to keep my hands off it. But I'd never met his wife and thought she'd think me forward.
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