Sunday is almost gone...

...and I am wondering where the weekend went.
I actually had a good weekend, doing dinner and birthday shopping with Chris on Friday, and on Saturday there was a block watch meeting, dinner with Chris and Sam and then, best of all, CHOIR WEEKEND.
Our anthem was "To Dwell In the House" and it was inspiring. I did have a sad experience on Saturday after the service. Duke and I are the Saturday evening prayer ministers. This isn't for any other reason than that we joined the prayer ministry and no one else wanted to pray on Saturday evenings. We have some people we pray with regularly; Mary Jane, an older lady who needs regular prayer to maintain her confidence and faith. She is tormented thinking she is a burden on her children and feels useless. She is a diamond of a person and just doesn't see it. Her sons, Mike and Dave, are wonderful and bring her to service. One of the reasons is to pray with us. Then there is Trent who we pray with before he goes to the rescue mission to lead Saturday service. We get an occasional person who is looking for a quick prayer for a family member, travel or job search, and sometimes someone who just wants to pray.
Last night was different. A woman, Terri, came up and instead of standing with us walked past and sat behind where we were standing. I asked, did you want to pray, and she reached in her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She showed me a picture of her 15 year old son, obviously a special needs child, and started crying. You see, he had died on Friday and her heart was broken. She spoke of how at birth he was expected to live 6 months - how they named him David Daniel after two of the strongest forces in the Bible - of how he inspired everyone with his smile and good nature - how his younger siblings loved him - how his nurses fought to get him the best time and equipment because he was not just a dying child to them. She explained how her husband did total care during the day while she worked, and how while she drove home on Friday, David had stopped breathing and gone to God.
Like any Christian who mourns, she acknowledged that he was in a better place and she knew that now he could do all the things that he couldn't do while alive. She also knew that this changed everything. She had focused on him for almost 16 years - where they went depended on how he would fit in - what they did depended on how he was feeling. Now they finally had a sort of freedom that they never had before, and she was almost fearful of it. To make it worse, she hadn't contacted the church yet, and she didn't know who to turn to. I took her phone number and when I got home, I contacted Nancy Erickson, the pastor's wife, on her behalf.
The point? (remember, my first blog said that maybe I would just ramble on...)
I was really out of my league with helping this woman. I can sympathize with her and pray for her, but can I truly help her? I know that prayer is one of the strongest tools we have for healing. I know that sometimes, especially when the world is spinning out of control, all we need is someone to listen to us and hug us.
In the end, when time comes to face death and the ones I love leave me, how will I handle it? Will I go to church to pray? Will I move forward in confidence or fear? Will I see the light that is in the tunnel, not just at the end? I'll let you know when it happens. Today, I just cheer for the world I have, the family I love and the God who will never leave me.