As I stood by the open casket, my eyes were focused on the well-worn hands resting on the equally well-worn Bible. I was asking myself, “Did those hands rest on her shoulders, or give her a gentle embrace, or simply reach out and shake her 12-year-old hands? What did he say to her? What did she say to him?” The memories, the connection, were creating an indelibly poignant moment . . .

Almost four years earlier, on June 27, 2004 my mom went to sleep . . . and then to heaven in the early hours of June 28.  Later that day, I was going through some of her things in search of material I might use in preparing the tribute my siblings had asked that I write for inclusion in the service bulletin that would be distributed at her memorial service later that week.

I found three pages of writing . . . a devotional she had prepared for sharing with her ladies’ prayer group many years before. I began to read the story of her faith journey that had begun back in 1930 when, as a 12-year-old girl, she had “come to a saving faith in Jesus Christ under the ministry of Rev. Arthur Calhoon.” In those moments, I silently thanked God for this man who had been a part of bringing my mother into the wonderful family of God seventy-four years earlier. I thought of the reunion in heaven he and my mother had certainly already shared earlier that morning.

The next day, I included that portion of her testimony in the written tribute for the bulletin.  Two days later, following the service, I stood with others of my family as those who had attended the service took the time to pass by and offer their words of comfort, assurance, and support. Dr. and Mrs. Paul Faulkenberry approached and Ruth gently put her hand on my arm and spoke these words that caused me to experience one of the most profoundly, awesomely breathtaking moments of my life: “Joan, I’d like for you to meet Rev. Arthur Calhoon!” Immediately overcome with emotion, I threw my arms around this precious little man and began whispering to him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” The person who, as a young pastor, had led my mother to the Lord seventy-four years earlier was still alive . . . and standing in front of me!

Only a sovereign and kind God would have created this moment–a moment that spanned more than seven decades and covered the distance of more than half a continent to bring us together! 1930 to 2004 . . . a small town in South Dakota to a small town in South Carolina.

And so it was, that just a few days ago, standing beside the casket of Rev. Arthur Calhoon, who at the age of almost 102, finally had that reunion with my mother–and so many others–in heaven, I again found myself whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you . . .”

Joan Rampey

April 2008