Written for my brother-in-law's memorial service (08/31/03).
For half her life plus six years,
Through times of joys, through times of tears,
There's been one man who's been her mate,
They met. They prayed. They set the date.
A child, eighteen, when she wed
And took this man as her family's head.
"It'll never last, they're much too young,"
Were the wisdom words from many a tongue.
Though trials came and challenged their love,
They set their gaze on the One up above.
With God’s help, their new life begun,
For twenty-four years they grew as one.
With him, through her, three new lives, three joys.
With him, through her, one girl, two boys.
And many a life did his love touch.
And many a heart will miss him so much!
This man has passed through heaven’s gate,
An appointment to which he could not be late.
For her I wish he much longer could stay,
But, "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away."
"He was much too young!" cries our unified voice,
But life and death are seldom our choice.
A Greater Wisdom had ordained his time,
It would not be our choice, but it was the Divine.
So now he walks those streets of gold
Where stories of earth are once again told.
He looks, he sees so many familiar faces,
And tankless, with Jim Bob, he runs a few bases.
A strong hug from Flossy, from Wendy a cold drink,
Advise from his mom is making him think.
Goofing with Brian, he gets a bit squirrelly,
Then warms up his pipes
with his sister-in-law Shirley.
For his greatest joy, what fills his heart,
Is the honor, the worship, his voice can impart.
No longer breathless, loud praises he brings,
In the choir of heaven our brother now sings.
"Because our Lord lives, we can face each tomorrow."
Because this man lives, we honor God in our sorrow.
With only one sister I was allowed one more brother,
For her, for us, I’d have chosen no other.
In life, his family, to love God he did raise.
In sickness, with her, his God he did praise.
In death, he was freed from life’s limitation.
In heaven, full life, not earth’s imitation.
This man, our brother, his race now complete,
Has taken his place at his Master’s feet.
Listen!
The voice of the One who from heaven rules
Says, "Enter my rest, my precious Jules."
Liberto "Jules" VanCamp
1956 - 2003
Rich Clingman 08/19/03
©2001 - 2005, Rich Clingman,
PoemsByRich.com
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