Her name was Ginger and she died on Friday and her funeral was Tuesday. She struggled in her last days to breathe and remain comfortable. Jerry asked me to assist with the funeral and I was honored to do so.
Upon arrival I saw Ginger’s husband sitting on the front row. He is over 80 years old and in this moment he was weeping in a way that hit me. There is something about watching an old man cry that moves me for some reason. You could tell he loved his wife and was not only morning her death but also his broken heart. My eyes became watery.
At the end of the funeral, he stood up and took strides like an infant, small and with assistance. There was more movement from side to side than there was forward in his walk. As he moved closer his weeping became louder and upon reaching his beloved, he kissed her lips and touched her hand.
My emotions took me over and I could not look at him in his moment. Not because I was embarrassed. I was not ashamed of my tears. And it was not inappropriate for emotions to move in ministers. Rather, these moments between a husband and wife were too sacred.
Like Moses encountering God, I could not look at the face of such sacredness, such holiness, such love.
Have you ever had to turn away because it was just to sacred?
July 9, 2009
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5 comments:
almost had to quit reading this...
I assume the story was meaningful not that the writng was bad.
You should have been there.
A friend of mine says that being a minister is the best job in the world. And I am begninng to see why. We have the honor to be present at the sacred moments of people's lives.
I think it is called being human, when you give another privacy as your own heart hurts for them. Thanks for sharing.
I suppose so. Either way, sacred is just a word that has seem to have falled out of favor with the general masses. You call it being human, I call it sacred.
Thanks for the comment!
Everyone should be lucky enough to have that kind of love with another person.
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