8.09.2009

Honored

I had the honor of speaking at Randy's funeral a couple of weeks ago.   Since then, I've had several people ask me to read what I said.  So I'm sharing it here and hoping my words continue to honor him.


I feel I was taught so much through this experience.  I think we all were.  And I feel it is an honor to share what I've learned along the way.


The first thing I learned was the importance of knowing where you stand with God.  Are you saved?  Do you know for sure?  Randy knew for sure.  And this certainty is what granted him a peace, a peace in knowing that while he may wish for more time here on earth, he was hopeful and happy about the possibility of soon meeting his Savior.  I was amazed by his courage through his dismal diagnosis.  I can remember struggling with the news and wondering, how does one go on after hearing such news?  How do you wake up in the morning and go about your daily activities, all with the knowledge that you are dying?  I knew I couldn't be that strong, that positive.  But Randy was.  I talked to him a few days after his diagnosis and I asked him those very questions.  How are you coping?  How are you handling this so well?  He responded to me very matter of factly, saying that he had prayed and he was at peace with his future.  He revealed that he was sad about the idea of leaving behind his family and friends so early in life and that he had prayed to God for more time.  Oh, I thought, he feels the same way I would feel.  He's sad, upset, angry, just like I would be if given news that I would be leaving my children and loved ones in such an unexpected, unfair way.  But immediately Randy went on to finish his statement.  "But," he said, "if God is ready to take me home, I'm okay with that too.  I really am."  And so while he did have those human thoughts of worry and sadness, those thoughts were quickly replaced by a peace in the understanding that God's will would be done, no matter what.  That peace and understanding can only be found in knowing that as you face your final moments on this earth, that your heavenly father is there with His arms outstretched as He welcomes you to your eternal home in paradise.


Through Randy's diagnosis, sickness and death, I have been reminded that life is short.  Our time on this earth is fleeting.  None of us are guaranteed another day.  We are not promised another breath or another day in a healthy body.  Our bodies may fail us, leaving us an unhealthy shadow of our former self.  Life can change in an instant.  Accidents happen.  Doctors deliver grim news.  Our future changes in a second.  None of us sitting here would have imagined a year ago, or even six months ago, that we would be gathered here today in this manner.  But we are.  And it should be a wake up call to each of us, as it was to me, that nothing is guaranteed.  Do the people you love know it?  Are you sure?  Did you hug your children today?  Did you call your Mom?  Did you stop what you were doing to visit your Dad?  It is never too late to make things right.  To repair relationships and mend broken hearts.  And while I pride myself on bestowing many hugs and kisses on my boys and telling them I love them until they grow tired of hearing it, this experience taught me that I can always do more.  We can always do more.  We can always say more and show love more.  Now is this time to be kind.  Today is the day to apologize.  Today is the day to offer forgiveness.  Randy did it.   The days before his death Randy offered forgiveness.  He spoke kindly.  And he made sure to tell each and every person that he loved them.  He was teaching us all.  In the hours after his death, as his family sat in the hospital waiting room, I heard dozens of I love you's as his loved ones embraced one another.   And I know Randy was proud.  


I learned that God can use anything for good.  Even the simplest things.  Like cows.  I can remember when Jody decided to venture into the cattle business three years ago.  Sam was a newborn and I must admit that I didn't find the cows and all they entailed too amusing.  In fact, I resented those cows.  I resented the fact that it meant I was often left at home, alone with a newborn, for most of the weekend.  I often gritted my teeth and I'm sure rolled my eyes when Jody would announce that he would be gone again because he needed to give shots, tag ears or mend fences.  But those cows soon became a way of life.  I knew every Saturday, and many Sunday afternoons, would be spent the same way.  Joe, Jody, Randy and Andy would be doing something for their little cattle business.  Soon, Sam was old enough to go with the guys and later Jack would join in too.  And while I was grateful for the opportunity my children had to be around animals and develop a love for them, I didn't fully understand that the importance of those cows was so much more.  Those cows mended relationships, healed hearts and built friendships.  They allowed two brothers to become friends again, and two sons  to develop a new found love and respect for their father and their uncle.  Those simple cows were the vehicle God used to create an unbreakable bond and to make things right.  And today, I am thankful for them.


I learned about faith.  But this time, Randy was not my teacher.  His mother was.  I have watched in amazement as Willa carried herself with such grace in a time when her heart was surely breaking.  When I would visit the hospital, I would find myself not watching Randy, but instead watching Willa.  My heart ached for her.  At 56 years old, he was still her child and I knew while every one's heart was broken, nobody was hurting quite like she was.  I wondered how she could be so strong, so resilient.  I thought of myself sitting there, watching my child slowly leave me as I helplessly could do nothing.  Be he three or 63, it wouldn't matter.  Could I watch my son's body fail him and exude such a Godly presence that I was an example to all that saw me?  Could I hide my pain in order to keep the focus on him?  Willa did.  And she did it with a grace I've never seen before.  I finally asked her how she was handling things so well, how was she being so strong.  "Faith," she said.  Faith in knowing that her son would soon be in the presence of his heavenly father and that she would indeed be reunited with him again.  I so admire her for this.  I admire her strength, but more than that, I admire her for being a Godly mother and raising her children to be God-fearing believers who strive to serve God.  And while I know she never expected one of her children to precede her in death and while I know that her heart is broken, I also know that the reason she can face these hard times with such grace is because she did her job as a mother and she did it well.  She knows her children will one day be joined with her again in heaven. As a mother I know this is such a blessing to her and that knowledge is what will sustain her and offer her a peace that a mother can only find in knowing that her child is a child of God.


And lastly I learned that children can often say things better than we can.  A few weeks after Randy's diagnosis, we were sitting at the dinner table.  And like every night Sam began to say the blessing.  It was his usual blessing..."thank you for food, thank you for bears, thank you for tractors"... but on this particular night he added at the end, "and God, please fix Randy, amen".  Jody and I looked at one another in shock.  You see, we hadn't told Sam Randy was sick.  Sure, he had probably overheard the discussions and he understood that something was wrong, but we hadn't told him directly that Randy was sick.  And from that night on, nearly every one of Sam's prayers included "and please fix Randy."  After Randy died, we told Sam.  He asked why he couldn't see him anymore.  Jody and I did our best to explain things to him.  The next morning Sam climbed into a chair and stood on his tiptoes, stretching his legs as far as he could.  And he asked me, "Mommy, am I tall enough now to see Randy in heaven?"  Even after telling Sam that Randy was now in heaven, he has still prayed several times for God to "fix Randy."  And I happily tell him that God has fixed Randy.  And while it may not be the outcome we all hope and prayed for, we can all rest in knowing that God did fix him and he is healed.

3 comments:

MiMi & Robin said...

What a way to start the day! As I cry reading this, I also feel the presence of God. I miss Randy so much, but I am so blessed as his sister to have the peace and comfort of knowing that he is now with our Savior. Thanks for sharing Angela. No one could have said it better. You have a wonderful, God given talent.
Kay

Taylor said...

Angela you did a wonderful job on this. You certainly have a gift with words and you should be so proud of this. What a beautiful tribute to Randy.

Anonymous said...

You did a wonderful talk at the funeral. I could see Randy in each word you said. You made it an inspiration and a comfort. Thank you for helping us all get through a difficult time.
love
G-MA