When told of
a death I usually call the deceased one’s home to express my condolences to the
bereaved family members and to offer to assist with the making of funeral
arrangements. With the subject family member still alive, my call was generally
not well received. On one occasion the supposed deceased person happened to
answer the phone. That made for a rather clumsy conversation with me having
very little to say.
I had started
calling ahead because of an experience I had during my student ministry days.
Even though it was before the days of speed dial, someone must have had the
parsonage number on some form of speed dial. Answering the phone one afternoon,
a voice I did not recognize said, “Bobbie Glenn just died,” and hung up. A
little short on information I headed for the Glenn’s home, located on the
outskirts of our tiny Kentucky community. After a very short drive, I arrived
and found the front door standing open. I stepped inside and a profoundly distraught
family ran to me and said, pointing down the hallway, “He’s in there.” I walked
down the hallway, dodging wailing family running around in circles and calling
out incoherently, and looked into the first bedroom. I then glanced into the
bathroom and saw Bobbie sprawled on the floor and, indeed, looking quite dead.
This was before my many years working in EMS and was my first time seeing a freshly
dead body. I considered just getting back in my car and returning home. Pride
forced me to seek to be more helpful and I suggested to the family that it
might be a good idea to call the funeral home; which they did. Good sense
dictated that in the future I call before going.
We had a
premature announcement of a death in our family. When our two oldest children, Mack
and Meg, were just entering grade school we lived in Stanford, a small town in
central Illinois. It seemed a good time to get a dog. We purchased a beautiful
little Shetland Sheep dog (They look like miniature collies.) and named her
Kelly. She was a joy and the whole family just adored her.
One summer
week we sent the kids off with their grandparents to spend a couple of days in
the country with the great grandparents. Kids are great but sometimes a little
break from them seemed a good idea. After a couple of days my wife and I made
the trip Kentucky to pick the kids up and bring them home. My mother-in-law
(Who was such a sweet person.) met us at the door and tearfully told us she was
so sorry to hear that our dog had died. I was surprised at the announcement
since the last thing I had done before leaving home was to feed the dog. And
she seemed very much alive at the time. I asked her where she had heard that news.
She said, “Mack told me that Kelly died.”
Mack. How
does one describe Mack? Even as a child he was an interesting and complex
person. I good looking kid with bright red hair, big blue eyes and a patch of
freckles scattered across his nose. He had a wonderful laugh and, even as a
toddler, loved a good joke. He was the leader of the other children and often led
them into some very imaginative play scenarios. He was smart with a great
imagination.
I was the
father and one of my children had obviously told a big old hairy lie. Something
must be done and it was my job to address this misdeed. So I called Mack in
from whatever he was doing for a confrontation. I took a seat on the couch, up
close to the edge so I could be nose to nose and eye to eye with the little
liar. I stood him right in front of me for the questioning to begin. Knowing
Mack, I knew I would have to catch him off guard. I thought I had the perfect
approach. I looked directly into his deep blue eyes and said, “Mack, I just
heard that Kelly died.” Without batting an eye, with the sweetest, most sincere
look on his face, he replied, “You know, I heard that too.”
Good Lord,
how do you respond to that? I was the father… the disciplinarian… the regulator
of his moral compass. I had only one choice. I laughed until tears ran down my
face and my abdomen cramped. Mack just smiled at me and went back to playing.
The dog lived and so did the child. It was a good day.
Bill McConnell is the Interim Minister at Norwood
Christian Church in Cincinnati, Ohio, and is a Church Transformation consultant
and a Christian Leadership Coach. He is a frequent speaker at Church
Transformation events. His latest book on church transformation is DEVELOPING A
SIGNIFICANT CHURCH and is available at Westbow Press.
He can be contacted @ bill45053@gmail.com. Connect
with him on Facebook @ William T. McConnell or on
Twitter @billmc45053 or visit his Amazon Author Page @ Amazon
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