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Miracle Work

On another cold, dreary day, I’m calling women and asking if they can bake cookies for lunches-to-go, then I push on and ask if they can also come early to the church to help build the sandwiches before the funeral service begins.


It’s totally different from our norm—the lunches will be picked up after the service by family and out-of-towners attending a funeral. The family will be hungry by the end of the service, but they have a schedule to keep at the cemetery, which is a good ways away, and a full meal later at another church, awaiting them.


We women did not forget about Covid.


Mainly, our thoughts were on Connie Huskey, a beautiful woman who put her Lord God first, then family. She is with her Jesus now. But while on this earth, she was a model for many women.


Some of you know that whatever is done these days at church, it is no longer simple. Still, women have their ways.


You might call it a commonplace miracle, but that’s not how it struck me, not during Covid days. I called four women to help. One could not accept because of a previous promise, though she so wanted to.


The other three were quick to say, “Yes, I’ll bake cookies and get there early to build sandwiches, add chips and cookies to the lunch bags.”


There was the usual miracle: wiping everything down with disinfectant, wearing masks, wearing gloves. Everyone cooperating.


One of many miracles was the guesswork on the purchase of turkey, ham, cheese, bread, salad dressing. Nothing went to waste.


Another run-of-the-mill miracle was the woman who called me. She must have had a holy urging placed on her heart. She thought we should do something, in spite of Covid, in spite of the family’s tight schedule, in spite of another meal waiting on them eventually. Ms Connie, now in heaven, had had six children, many grandchildren and great-grandchildren who’d be attending the funeral. They’d need a small meal.


But we had to think. In the first place, there’s Covid to avoid.


We workers were highly aware, so we stayed awake and weighed options about what we might do and not do. None of us are young women anymore either. Not getting Covid is a miracle not wasted on us.


A miracle, what else can you call it? Ms Connie, who never said an unkind word about anyone, left behind a church-full of family who also have chosen to love and serve the Lord. Without saying much, this woman lived out her faith. One of her sons said, “She passed the baton on to us children to keep running the race, to keep loving others...., and one day, pass it on to our children.”


A miracle, minus the formal wear, is that we women finished making the lunches before the service even started. We, (masked and distancing, of course), pulled up extra chairs at the back of the church to listen to Ms Connie’s story, as told by her three pastor sons.


I just took a look at the photos scrolling—a miracle how this woman had humbly lived her life to the fullest. What a fine example for the women in our church and beyond.

An extra and ordinary miracle was how the casket (from where I viewed it) was placed at the foot of the cross like I imagine Mary, the mother of Jesus, must have been situated at the Crucifixion.


One more: on the way home, my car was peppered by snow flurries.


Just take a look around. You might find a woman who is living out multiple miracles. Be thankful. Be grateful to know at least one, maybe more.

God bless,


Pat Durmon

patdurmon@gmail.com


P.S. I look forward to hearing from you in the Comment section below!


One table of lunch bags-to-go for the family members, following the funeral service. Photographed by Pat Durmon, January15, 2021.