B's story

At the funeral last week, somehow I was able to tell B's story. It was something that I strongly felt had to be done, and there wasn't anyone else who could do it. This is essentially the text of what I said at her memorial service:

B spent many summers working at a ministry in Colorado. From time to time, the founder’s son would come to her and ask her to tell her story. B would rather to talk to 200 people one at a time than to 200 people at one time, so she would usually be a little reluctant, but he would tell her: “B, this is a rough crowd; they need to hear your story.” So, B would “tell her story” and lives would be changed. I’m going to tell you her story.

B had a hard childhood. Her family was split up when she was five years old, with the consequent hardship, emotional, financial, and otherwise. The carefree childhood most of us had was unknown to her. B didn’t remember ever going to church, and the only spiritual education she could recall was attending Vacation Bible School one summer where she learned Psalm 23.

At 16, B had to leave home and she started supporting herself. B rarely shared the details with anyone, but I will tell you that she went through things that no woman should ever have to experience, let alone a 16, 17, or 18 year-old girl.

About the time she turned 20, B came to a crisis point in her life, and she started thinking out that one scripture passage she had learned. She couldn’t quite recall how it ended, so somehow she obtained a dime store Bible so she could read it. She went on to read the New Testament, but it really didn’t sink in.

One evening she came home, and wanted to watch TV, but there was only one channel in their small town, and Billy Graham had preempted M*A*S*H. B was not happy about that at all, but then something caught her attention. She listened, and at the end, when Dr. Graham said people could pray at home, she did. She said “God, if You’re real like You said in ‘that book’, then I need it, so show me.”

Well, God did show B. She turned her life over to Him, and He changed her. B never did anything half-way, and so she dove right into serving God. Along the way, there were a few good mentors who helped her mature.

For a long time B was burdened by her past. She once told me that she “never thought a good man would want her.” She couldn’t quite figure out just exactly what was wrong with me. She had a lot to learn about the grace of God.

For many years, B worked hard at serving, and she was always finding ways to help people here and there. But a little over fifteen years ago, something clicked. She finally realized that she didn’t have to work to please God; that as His child she DID please God. And at that point, her ministry flourished. Instead of struggling at ministering to a few people, she began to very naturally and joyfully minister to hundreds.

B would tell you first, that in God there is forgiveness from sin, no matter what you’ve done. But also, for those of us who have already found that forgiveness, there is tremendous freedom. Serving God should be a joy, and not a chore.

More about myself.

There's a lot more I want to write, but I need to give you some background and explanation. First of all, anyone can read this blog, so that creates several special concerns with respect to my family's privacy. Therefore, I've chosen to use aliases for everyone mentioned here.

I can't always just be referring to my wife as "my wife" -- it sounds so depersonalized, though she was my wife, my best friend, my lover, my life companion, my most trusted (and honest) advisor, and so much more. I was thinking about using the Greek or Hebrew words for "beautiful one" but that just seemed a little stilted. I actually rarely used her name when talking directly to her; she preferred "Babe," except when I'd done something to upset her. I used to call her "The Boss" on an on-line forum when discussing politics and economics, but that nickname doesn't fit at all in this context. So, I'll just refer to her as "B" -- a code name for her that I occasionally used for her, shorthand for "my Babe."

I have three children, a son and two daughters. I'll get nicknames for them if need be. I just don't want to say anything here to embarrass them, and I definitely want to protect their privacy. My son is the eldest. He is an Army officer, currently holding the rank of captain in a rather elite combat unit. He's had two full tours in Iraq.

My older daughter is a law student. I call her my "wayward" daughter, due to the fact that she's going to be a lawyer and she's attending my alma mater's arch rival in sports.

My youngest daughter is a college junior. She's studying accounting and music, and she's discovered that university "degree plans" don't really take that possible combination into account.

I'm definitely a proud father. Like I said in a previous post, they make going on worthwhile.

My trusted friend CPCWarrior has posted comments here, so she got to choose her own alias, a very appropriate one, too. It's a good thing -- I would probably have chosen a different one, and she definitely would have let me know if she hadn't liked it.

Thinking about my family and friends has been good for me today.