Sunday, I plan on preaching on how we have a distorted image of God --- all of us; not just some of us. We make God into our own image. It is weird to be working on this today --- for no day has more impacted my understanding of God than November 11th.
Thirty-five years ago, Stewart Wesley Conger crossed over the summit into whatever it is that awaits us next. I remember that day more clearly than any other in my life – which in itself is kind of weird. I remember that final day more than I remember some of the great times that Stewart and I had. I think I remember it, because that day has come to define our relationship.
As I have told many times before, I got a collect phone call from my father (whose parent calls their broke son collect?). He was calling from the hospital to let me know that Stewart was being released to the hospital and sent home to die. The doctor told him that if I wanted to come home, I needed to head north ASAP.
I was not able to leave until Sunday right after church. Sue brought Nancy out to Richfield in time for church where I announced to the wonderful people who had loved me in a way I had never experienced before that I did not know if I would ever be back.
Immediately after church, Nancy and I (we were dating at the time) began the long journey from North Carolina to Downers Grove, Illinois. I had not slept the night before because I had a lock-in with the youth of the circuit at the parsonage. We drove as long as I was capable (we stopped outside of Frankfort Kentucky at I am sure a flea bag hotel). I called home and was told not to push it because they did not expect Stewart to make it through the night. In the middle of the night I was awoken from a deep sleep with the NEED to get on the road.
We arrived in Downers Grove at the house, and silently slipped into the family room where Stewart lay on a hospital bed. No one even heard us come into the house, and neither my dog (Nahum a beagle) or my parents’ dog (Lazarus) made a sound as we entered. A few minutes after we arrived, and I had a chance to talk with Stewart, he took his last breath and died.
For whatever reason, Stewart hung on until I was there. It is the greatest gift in my life, rivaled only by Nancy and my three beautiful daughters.
I have had the privilege to be with dozens of people as they take their last breath, and everyone is remarkable. It is a reminder of how fragile life is and how precious a gift it is.
Thirty-five years have gone by in a flash.
Today I have not been as low as I often get --- and for that I am thankful. A big reason for that is the love and support that Nancy gives me. But I think it is also the reality that together we have lost so much of our family. Stewart followed nine years ago by Ed, Nancy’s dad, eight years ago, Mike, Nancy’s brother died, and then in May of last year we lost Sue, Nancy’s mom.
Part of my dad today was spent going over the financial documents for my parents to be able to move into a Senior Living Community. It grieves me that they can no longer stay in their condo – but those days are over, and I hope to get them moved so that they can enjoy a new community and build new relationships while still being independent. I know that they are struggling with this changing reality in their lives.
Life is hard --- but it is also good.
In three days, Nancy joins me by celebrating her 60th birthday. I cannot express how fortunate I am that she is in my life. She has been there through the good, the bad and the ugly --- but through it all she has never given up on me. She was there with me when Stewart died --- and has held me and comforted me as I have grieved over the past 35 years. I am thankful that we can do this journey together.
Last Sunday, as part of her birthday celebration we went to Turkey Run and hiked for almost 6 miles. It was a beautiful day and a great way to remember. Remember the gift of life, the joy of love and family.
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