Eulogy

Thank you all for coming today to honour Grace Lydia Johnson.

It’s wonderful to get together to celebrate Mom’s life knowing with certainty that we’ve only parted for a short time and will be reunited one day when we meet again in Heaven. That’s not to say we haven’t grieved over losing her here on earth, but after each wave of grief comes a calm and peace, only possible through knowing the Lord Jesus Christ.

I’m Esther Bowering, Grace and Jim’s “middle” child of seven.

When starting to write this I thought “Mmmm” I wonder how a “middle” child is defined online?” This is what I found. “diplomatic, nurturing, introspective, tentative and has a tendancy towards keeping the peace”. There you have it. I can read my sibling’s minds right now, thinking, “really, you don’t say”.

We’ve gathered to honour a beautiful, loving, humble woman, loved deeply as a wife, mother, sister, aunt, grandma, great grandma, great great grandma and friend. There are so, so many fond memories, stories to tell and miracles that we witnessed growing up with Grace as our mom.

Our mom never wanted to inconvenience anyone and went the extra mile for anyone; known by her, or not. Mom and Dad would often host Bible studies and even started a home church in a rural northern mill community which eventually became an established church with it’s own building. Mom was always involved in the children’s and youth ministries. The Lord gave Mom a special gift “a servants heart”. I would ask her “Mom, what is your spiritual gift” and she would always answer: “Well, I think the Lord has given me a gift of serving others”. That was very true. She would seek out people who were troubled in their soul, mind or physically, “those that appeared to be shunned by others”. She would quite literally take them under her wing; offer for them to bathe at our home, wash and dry their clothes while they were bathing, make them a meal, take them to appointments. Sometimes that would be a 100 mile round trip, while picking up a hitchhiker or two along the way. Even transporting a neighbour’s son, to the hospital, in the back of our car after he was accidentally shot and killed by his brother in their home. It seems everyone depended on Mom.

It’s hard, really, to separate many stories by only mentioning Mom as our Mom and Dad were always there for each other.

Some of Mom’s hobbies (probably more so out of necessity) were gardening, canning and growing flowers. We always had a garden and a canning shed for years. Mom and Dad would harvest vegetables and fruit from the garden and sit down together to have tea while they shelled peas, trimmed green beans, shucked corn kernels from the cob, prepared tomatoes and other vegetables and fruit for canning. The old wood stove in the canning shed would be fired up and on would go the canner. This was the stove that I lost a front tooth on while trying to break up kindling, using the front edge of the stove. That canning shed’s shelves were lined with almost every kind of vegetable and fruit you could think of along with canned fish and meat and stews. It was a welcomed sight when us kids got hungry ahead of a mealtime. We could occasionally sneek a jar of cherries or plums, rearranging the row, to not cause any suspicion (of course we were always found out) and climb up into the loft of the barn and make short work of it. I don’t recall being involved in the actual “sneeking” part but I sure remember tasting the fruit.

One of my fondest memories was being called “Mom’s shadow”. That’s what my older siblings called me. They felt sometimes that I was too young to hang with them and of course I felt I was too old to be with the younger three. That meant that I would go along with Mom on most grocery shops while Mary-Lou and Betty-Lou watched the younger kids. I can remember Mom telling me, now we only have so much money to spend. I would run around the store trying to find the items on her list before she reached them. Sometimes I’d get it wrong and she would put things back and explain again that we were on a budget. I guess that explains my thriftiness to this day.

We went on many, many family outings, mostly day trips but we loved them. There were walks, hikes, rides in the station wagon and swimming in creeks. We loved to rock hunt. Dad would cut some of the rocks and make jewellery. Us kids would all be in search of the best rock and many times thought we struck it rich, finding gold, but dad would burst our bubble and tell us it was just a piece of Mica or Pyrite. Sometimes he would make up some huge name for the type of rock we found and of course we believed him but Mom would scold him for being so silly and not telling us the truth (fact was he probably didn’t know what it was himself).

Whenever we went exploring in the car, we knew we would not be stopping at a restaurant or drive-in to eat. That was other than dad driving through A&W drive-in and saying “OK kids, roll down the windows and take a good sniff” as he drove through and continued on down the road. Again, mom would scold him for teasing us. She would pull out a loaf of bread, package of bologna or macaroni pimento loaf, mustard and a tray of cinnamon buns. The food would disappear as fast as she could put sandwiches together.

In our evening bible reading and prayers, we would also memorize scripture. One of the verses I remember memorizing early on was Romans 12:1

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.

Mom loved to sing. She played piano and organ as well as violin and accordian (by ear) as she did not read music. She would often be asked to sing solos in our church. Us kids would give a sigh of relief knowing it meant that we wouldn’t all have to get up on the platform and grace the church (excuse the punn) with a Johnson Family Musical Special. Mom and Dad would often play piano and clarinet while Mom sung along just as worship to the Lord, Mom, too, played a piano with a midi port that Dad had connected to his computer. He would capture Mom’s playing, tweak it and put it down on sheet music. Mom and Dad co-wrote a song entitled “All Things Work Together For Good” along with many others. There’s a copy of this song in the white binder along with poems written by them and the poem, “My Only Sweetheart” from Dad to Mom, which you have in your Service Program today.

In the evenings, Mom would call out to us kids when it was time to come in for supper with a “Yahoo, come on kids, supper’s ready”. We would be far flung in the woods up behind the house, playing with the neighbour kids or hanging out on the big old tree swing but we didn’t hesitate to run to the table to make sure we got our share. I can remember our brother Gordon asking Mom if he could have second along with his first helping. Mom would say “no, everyone has to get some first and then we’ll see after that”.

Finally I have to say that Mom and Dad, no matter what was happening or how dire our situation, always relied on the Lord to provide, and were always content with what was provided as they believed the Lord provided us with what we needed (not with whatever we wanted) and they ALWAYS knew that the LORD WOULD PROVIDE.

Just as we remember Mom calling to us kids, we know with certainty that Jesus, too, called Mom and said “Grace, it’s time to come home. Mom left this earth and her frail mortal body for her Heavenly dwelling, in the early morning on Friday, November 3rd. It left a hole in all our hearts but we know it is only for a short while. Our hope is in what Jesus Christ accomplished for us all on the Cross by his death and resurrection, and in our belief in him, we too will have a glorious reunion with loved ones and the Lover of our Soul, Jesus himself.

Till we see you again, Mom.

Below are a couple of poems written to Mom by Dad ("Grace" and "My Only Sweetheart"). The last poem "Our Morning Prayer" was written by Mom and Dad to our family. Enjoy.
----------------------------------------------------------------

Grace
- by James Johnson -
(written - 2005)

I was becoming a lonesome, bachelor,
And was looking to find me a wife.
I wanted someone attractive,
That would cherish and love me for life.
Oh I knew some girls that were pretty,
But they all were so young and naive
So I prayed to my Father in heaven,
Please send a woman who believes like me.

Twas in an old hall, that we used for the church,
While playing my horn one fine day,
When who should appear but the girl of my dreams,
She was so lovely, she took my breath away.
The pastor said, “Miss Luttman, will you sing, for us, a song,
And when she did, I must confess,
I was quite hypnotized and enthralled.
For all I could see was a rosy pink haze,
That shimmered, there, in front of my eyes

I tried to play my old clarinet,
But it wouldn’t stop squawking at me,
So I stared at that girl in the rose coloured dress,
And prayed that she’d notice me.
As I looked down at her, with stars in my eyes,
I said to myself “This is the girl meant for me”
And though I was quite bashful and shy,
I had to know for myself, if she really was free.
I asked for a date and prayed she’d agree,
To a Youth For Christ meeting with me,
I was thrilled when she said how delighted she’d be,
And on that first date, we both realized,
Our meeting was already arranged in the skies.

One day Grace got a call, from her sister named Lou,
“There’s a place you can cook for an old logging crew”
But when I told Grace that I loved her, she was quick to agree,
She’d rather come to my house and cook just for me.

We agreed on the date, our marriage should be,
And instead of one week, like I said,
She said, it at least should be three.
We were going to be married, on Valentines day,
But that chosen date just wasn’t free.
We got married on Friday, the thirteenth of the month,
Some said, you’ll be sorry, you’ll regret that day, just wait and see.
But if that day was to mean, every bad luck,
Fifty-four years later, it’s still, going strong.

When I was saved, by belief in God’s Son,
He showered His mercy, and Grace down on me.
He showed me His Grace and undeserved love,
When He saved a sinner like me.
God answered my prayers, when I called unto Him,
For one who would love me for life,
I know this is true, for I also have Grace, my dear wife,
Grace’s name fit her fine, in a way she was, God’s favour to me.

Through sickness and health, Grace cared for my needs,
And through trials of life, Grace would intercede.
Grace raised all our children, with no though to her own.
What is Grace? It’s what my wife, in her love has shown.
But there’s also, Grace in her actions, to all other’s needs.
I’m just a handmaid of God, Grace would concede.
Grace prays for her loved ones, with a soft tender heart,
Grace will try to comfort, God’s love to impart.
I thank my God, for the gifts He’s given to me.
For the multiplied blessings, my spirit set free.
Till this life is over, and a new life in heaven begun,
I’ve set my course, there’s a race to be won.
But I’m sure of one thing, that will last me for life,
It’s God’s gift to me, my dear, loving wife.

My Only Sweetheart

Dedicated to my beloved wife, Grace
James L. Johnson

I prayed for a wife, and God gave me you,
A helper in life, faithful and true,
To love and to cherish ‘til death us do part,
You’re an angel on earth, my only sweetheart.
Two people as one, a man and his wife,
Committed together, united for life,
I knew, at first sight, it was love from the start,
The love of my life, my only sweetheart.

Down thru the years, your hair may turn grey,
But I’ll always love you, come whatever may,
Thru trials and heartaches, we never will part,
You’ll always be, my only sweetheart.
You're an angel on earth, and I love you dearly,
And to this little poem, I’ll add something yearly,
To express all my love, things straight from the heart,
And to say once again, you're my only sweetheart.

How can I count the ways, that I love you, my dear?
How can I express all my love, for you clearly?
I’m not too good at words, to express all my love,
But my dear, I love you sincerely.
So once again, as I’ve said from the start
I love you, my dear, you’re my only sweetheart,
You were given to me, now I know this is true,
And there’s no one on earth, as lovely as you.
For beauty is in the eyes, of the beholder, you see,
You were made for me, it was just meant to be.
You’re the love of my life, the queen of my heart,
One sent from heaven, my only sweetheart.

With each passing year, I love to say,
You grow still sweeter, day by day.
Your loving care, your tender touch,
Those little things, that mean so much.
They mean more to me, than silver or gold,
And my love for you, dear, will never grow old.
To share all your love, your compassionate heart,
For the privilege to say, you're my only sweetheart.

Our love is like a melody, that haunts me night and day,
To find the words and music, of things I’d love to say.
There are love songs, that are written,
That conveys both words and thoughts,
Here is one my dear, just listen,
It’s one straight from my heart.

Dearest One: Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you.
Dearest One: Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too.
Dearest One: Keep the love light glowing, in your eyes so true.
Dearest One: Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you.

These words were meant for you and me,
Tho’ age may dim the eye,
Tho’ desert sands grow cold, my dear,
And stars fall from the sky,
We’ll walk life's lane together,
Two sweethearts side by side,
Ever looking upward, to Jesus as our guide.

Our Morning Prayer

We come to you this morning, Lord,
With prayers upon our hearts.
There are so many, urgent prayers,
We wonder where to start.

There are some, within our own family, Lord
That have strayed and left your way.
Like the one lost sheep, we're asking Lord
Please speak to them this day.

We tried our best to raise them right,
To love your Way and Word.
You are the Way, the Truth, the Life,
Salvation’s way they’ve heard.

We thank you, Lord for each of them
We love them, every one,
Our loving daughters and loving sons
Lord save them every one.

Lord may this prayer be answered,
We commit them to your care
For if we leave this world behind,
We know we’ll meet up there

-Jim and Grace Johnson-