This morning, while seated at my
computer and my hands poised over the keyboard, I pose the question: What do I write about this
week?
No, I don’t have a burning topic in mind that’s just bursting to get out
and take form. And yet, I do have a sense of assurance that out of the quiet,
placid mood I have just now, a story will come . . . will come, like a tiny
green shoot – a snowdrop piercing the ground, which will shortly present its
delicate white-petalled heads, cheerfully announcing that winter will soon be past, for
spring is on its way.
In finding one’s way in uncertainty
you pretty well have to begin where you are, so here goes. I have the house to
myself, since my wife is off to a ladies meeting. They meet in a home, discuss
a book and consider it in the light of the Scripture – basically a Bible study,
over coffee or tea. And they share their joys and concerns – especially for
others, and pray.
A long-term friend, Doris,
facilitates the study. She and her late husband became our friends when I was
their pastor, many years ago. Bruce served with me on our church deacon board.
Let me tell you about the last time he and I were together.
About seven years ago
I drove from the community where I was serving, to attend the memorial service of another member who’d
served on that board with us, and enjoyed a time of visiting with various folks
over the lunch afterward. Hmm, but I was missing Bruce and wondered if he were
OK. Imagine my delight to see him approaching the door smiling, as I was leaving the
church building.
Too late now for the funeral service and lunch, he’d been detained by having to deal with an emergency call in his plumbing and heating business.
Broad smiles and warm hugs. “C’mon over to our place for a visit
before you head back home,” he grinned. I accepted gladly.
Doris wasn’t yet home
from work. Meanwhile we had a coffee and snack, and chatted away and laughed. We anticipated spring and Easter(they had a lovely yard and garden in the country), and exchanged family news, and reminisced about
old times – and Joe, who’d passed away. We hugged, and then I headed for home.
Several weeks later I
made another trip to that community, this time for Bruce’s own funeral
visitation. He’d entered into the eternal springtime of God’s gracious
presence. I now warmly cherish my last earthbound conversation and fellowship with my
Christian brother, whom I’d seen grow in his commitment to the Lord Jesus, and
had witnessed his kindness to others, including my wife and myself. However, I cherish the hope of meeting him again, in the mercy and by the grace of God, when I too will have left the confines of time and space.
The Christian period of Lent embraces a time
for reflection on our Lord Jesus’ sufferings and death, leading to His
resurrection. Snowdrops and crocuses, and daffodils and tulips arise from
winter’s ‘death’ to cheer our hearts, in varieties of beautiful form and colour, reminding us that
Winter will soon be past, and spring is just about here.
May these cherished reflections
of my friend and Christian brother Bruce be like cheerful snowdrops piercing
the ground of your heart to blossom into pure blooms of gratitude to God for
your valued friends, and above all, for Jesus our Saviour, Redeemer and Friend.
~~+~~
Peter A.
Black is a freelance writer in Southwestern Ontario, and is author of “Parables
from the Pond” – a children's / family book." (Finalist -- Word Alive Press ISBN 1897373-21-X )
His inspirational column, P-Pep! appears weekly in The Guide-Advocate. His articles
have appeared in 50 Plus Contact and testimony, and several newspapers in Ontario.
