I weep, watching the service.
A beloved, decades-long member of our church, Wilton quietly slipped out of this life, leaving behind countless stories of quiet humour, generous wisdom, and gentle care for those around him.
He loved Jesus. Oh, how he loved Jesus.
He lived a life of faith as it should be lived. Loving. Kind. Faithful. Persistent in walking alongside of people, pointing them to a loving God.
I could not be there, at the service. The pandemic meant I hadn’t seen him much the last few years. I am so thankful for the quiet nudge just a few days before he passed, to delay my own plans, to go to the hospital to see him.
Go. Now.
I am so thankful I listened to that nudge.
And now I watch his funeral service, and I weep, in part because I will miss this man, so much. But also because of gratitude. My own heart is strengthened with renewed resolve. Wilton passes the baton from his hands that carried it well, without faltering. He leaves behind countless lives, people shaped by his intentional care. I am reminded of the precious faith of which I am a part, following Jesus with so many others, and I am encouraged to carry on.
It was a joy to serve as his pastor for just a few years. I will deeply miss his smile and his words of wise encouragement. I will miss him asking me who he can visit, who needs help - “Give me the tough ones, Pastor Patti.”
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” (Bible)
He is a part of my cloud of witnesses now.
Until we meet again, my friend.
