Last Friday I learned from Gary George and Jim Cox (recently moved to Palm Springs and now 1.5 hours from Cuca and me) that LaNeita recently passed away. Seventeen years ago, when I preparing to leave North Side, LaNeita came to find me in the office with a copy of her funeral plans that she and I had prepared. We went together to the sanctuary and sat in a pew together. She was angry--she had always imagined that I would lead her funeral. We went through all of her plans and then she asked me what I would say about her. Frankly, I do not remember what I said. All I remember is our weeping together and blessing each other into the future.
I will also never forget the Sunday afternoon in 1997 when LaNeita and Jim invited all of the Elders to their home. I had recently come out to them and was preparing to tell the church. They wisely advised me to talk to all of the Elders first. We gathered. They listened to me and my story. We wept. We prayed. And then they blessed me--all of them. It is one of the most powerful days of my life.
Jim was the Chair of the Search Committee that called me.
Jim & LaNeita changed my life in such wonderful ways and I bless Jim today as he faces into life without her.
To all of the Thomas family, my heart goes out to you. If I were speaking at LaNeita's service today, I would simply read a poem.
When Great Trees Fall by Maya Angelou
When great trees fall,rocks on distant hills shudder,lions hunker downin tall grasses,and even elephantslumber after safety.
When great trees fallin forests,small things recoil into silence,their senseseroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,the air around us becomeslight, rare, sterile.We breathe, briefly.Our eyes, briefly,see witha hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,examines,gnaws on kind wordsunsaid,promised walksnever taken.
Great souls die andour reality, bound tothem, takes leave of us.Our souls,dependent upon theirnurture,now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formedand informed by theirradiance, fall away.We are not so much maddenedas reduced to the unutterable ignorance ofdark, coldcaves.
And when great souls die,after a period peace blooms,slowly and alwaysirregularly. Spaces fillwith a kind ofsoothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, neverto be the same, whisper to us.They existed. They existed.We can be. Be and bebetter. For they existed.
Blessings.
Shalom.
Peace.