RIP Michael Churchill

My sensitivity to the Spirit has not diminished with age. I can be irritable, grumpy, rough-edged and blunt. I know I’ll never be a St. Theresa or any of the number of those with phenomenal forbearance.

I wouldn’t try to be one of those, just to mold into something useless.

Now, the question is ‘useless to who?’

I would say instead, ‘useless to Who?’ No one is useless to the Creator. We just don’t know what we can be used for.

I’m currently sitting in the fellowship hall of a country church I haven’t visited before. There’s coffee and cookies and well, I like cookies. I came tonight to pay respects to an old friend that fought cancer, and his funeral is tomorrow. This is his church.

I don’t really attend ‘church’ in a building per se, as I’ve gotten older. I look around at the woods, the grass, the sky, the weather and I thank the Creator Himself for it. The parts of my mind that enjoys the scientific method and logical observation note the things in nature that make up this world, the various observable facts, and the things that remain a mystery.

That part rejoices, along with the other part that watches for the Spirit’s presence. All parts agree.

The moment I crossed the threshold of this church, I felt that Presence. I knew It was here as I drove by the setting sun and saw the illumination of the building.

Firefighters are here, turned out in dress uniforms to honor their comrade, and Michael’s turnout coat and helmet is at his casket. Family and friends are here, some sad and showing it and some not.

The Presence is also here, guarding a good man before we commit his body back to the earth from where it came. I have no doubt that at the hour of his death and escape from the ravages of that demon cancer, he heard the words “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Enjoy thou into the glory of your Lord.”

No doubts.

Sadness? Yes, there’s sadness. But there’s a greater joy.

I’m glad my old friend is no longer suffering. Before he left us, I held his hand and whispered in his ear that I loved him and that I wanted him to save a place for me.

We’ll meet again, one day. On that day my sensitivity to the Spirit will be in full force.

Godspeed, old friend.

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