Heartland Community Church's pastor, Roger, is at his mother's 90th birthday party today in West Texas. Ruth is a twin, and she and her sister get to celebrate 90 years of sisterhood with family. As it should be...
That means, however, that Roger is not in town to perform Molly's "celebration of life" service today. I will do so at 3 p.m. in a ballroom on the Illinois State University campus. I'm honored to be asked. I desired to be involved. I do beleive I'm called to minister in a public way. And...I'm scared. Not of the crowd or the speaking and handling of program elements, but of the unexpected nature of grief -- my grief.
If there is one thing I've learned about grief over the years, it's that you don't control or predict what it will do. It comes in waves that you can't always see approaching. Sometimes you ride them well. Sometimes you get swallowed and swirled around in the sand, seaweed, and saltwater.
My desire is to be poised and a stablizing force for Molly's family. But I also know I don't have complete control over that. Funny, isn't it, that surrendering control is a big point in today's message to those who will gather.
So, I pray and ask God to use it all -- my words, my preparation, my intentions, and my grief to bring Him glory and honor as we all say "see you soon" to Molly.
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