A Gaelic Blessing

Since my daddy passed away, I haven’t been out to see his grave.   I guess I wasn’t ready.  Approching the second month of his death,  Mr. Bee and I took a drive out there recently on a beautiful, sunny day after church.  It was an odd feeling.  My memories of the day of his funeral were seeing the bugler, who played taps, standing off under a nearby tree and Daddy’s casket covered with the American flag.

I’ve made grieving my hobby for the last thirteen years.  It started with the loss of our little John.  I was trapped in a darkness that seemed insurmountable.  By God’s grace I recovered and I promised Him I would devote my life to helping others who grieve find a sense of hope for the future.  It has been a blessing and a honor to walk this journey with others.  I have made many close friends through this ministry and, as a result, received comfort from those around me in the recent death of my daddy.

Grieving is hard work, physically, emotionally and spiritually.  I tell others this all the time, so I have to make sure I listen to my own advice.  When I am stting in church, I imagine Daddy sitting next to me or at the back of the church.  He’s wearing his coveralls, a ball cap and his boots.  He has a half-chewed cigar in his mouth (he long ago gave up this habit) and has his loyal canine companion, Lexy, by his side.  I can feel Daddy’s presence.  I can sometimes feel him putting his hand on me.

Last Sunday during one of these moments with him, this blessing was sung by the Chancel Choir as we were being dismissed from church.  It was a God thing…

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of Christ, the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of Christ to you.

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