Tom

I went to a funeral today.

Truth be told, I have been to countless funerals in my life. Marrying a pastor's daughter, a singing family to boot, means I often have the privilege to serve those in grief. Sometimes it is through music, sometimes simply the ministry of presence. Each one is unique in some way, a reminder of how unique we all are.

I have buried my parents, many other family members and friends of varying degrees. I have provided music for families where I didn't even know the deceased, simply out of respect for the need of the hour.

Today was different. Today I sang for Tom.

Tom Coay is a remarkable soul. I've never known a more thoughtful man. Tom loves God. He spent his time here serving in so many capacities through that lens. Tom spent his days with a healthy respect and awe of his Creator. When Tom and I saw each other on Sunday evenings, he consistently had something to share with me - a "God-wink" as he called it. A moment Tom recognized something of God in a fresh way. Sometimes it was new to him, other times it was something that had become familiar and was refreshed in Tom's eyes.

Tom's devotion to his family could never be questioned. He's always been free with praise of their accomplishments, and transparent in those seasons of concern for his loved ones when trials came.

Tom's emotional delicacies consistently played out when he prayed - prayer never seems a repetitive habit to him. Tom's prayers always seem to be spoken to God earnestly, tenderly, respectfully. His prayers ring with gratitude. His voice seemed as a free man who knew full well that he was conversing with the One who had made him free.

Tom interpreted scripture in ways that were often different than mine. Our times in Bible study together consistently engaged me. I know he felt the same about my interpretation of scripture because we spoke of it more than once. Evidence of maturity that we saw things differently but loved each other fiercely and respected that God could show us BOTH something different. God can do two different things for two different people and still be consistent in His character. That's one of the many benefits of being God.

Each week after services had concluded at church, Tom, consistent as clockwork, would make his way to the platform where I would be tearing down and would share a reflection on the service that night. He would consistently encourage me, thank me for some inconsequential thing I had done, and often emotions would be present, even here.

A few weeks ago Hosea had me sing an old song with a lyric that said,

Precious Lord, take my hand

Lead me on, let me stand

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn..."

After the service, leaning on his cane, Tom sought me out. He began to speak with that soft, sweet voice, but began to weep immediately. He shook his head a bit and said, "I can't even talk to you without crying anymore. That song you sang tonight, I want you to know it was just for me. I am all those things. I am tired, I am weak, and I am worn. Thank you for singing that for me."

I hugged him and told him I was thankful God used me for anything. I told Tom I loved him. Tom told me he loved me. He walked down the aisle and out of sight.

Today I sang at Tom's funeral.

One of the sweetest men I have ever known. A warrior of the faith. As we sat in the service I couldn't help but think that his experience at Heaven's gate had to be something so remarkable. A man who never took anything God had given him for granted.

You may notice that I don't speak of Tom in past tense. He's very much alive, though I confess I missed him at church last night. His physical presence is gone, but his influence, his wisdom, his encouragement, and the lessons he taught this vagabond are resonating louder than ever.

I have attended many funerals in my life. I never felt more unworthy to contribute to a service as I did today. I knew when I heard of his passing that I would miss Tom. I didn't realize it would be so deeply.

Thank you Tom. I love you and for me Heaven truly got sweeter with your entry. I'll be seeing you my brother.

peace