Two of Merlyn's daughters,
members of our church, asked me to visit their mom as the end of her five-month
battle with cancer drew near. Merlyn was 72, and her life had not been easy.
She was widowed at 43 and raised her four children by herself.
When I came to see her, she was
alone, lying in bed by the window in the back room of the house. One of her
daughters introduced me and left.
A few weeks before I was ordained, a gunman entered a
Benedictine monastery just north of Kansas City. The man parked his car in the
parking lot, walked into the monastery and opened fire. He shot and killed two
monks and wounded two others; then he marched into the chapel and shot himself
in the head.
I recently purchased the 1800s' homestead where I’ve lived for the past
five years, and I’m busy renovating the house and outbuildings. There
are a few old apple trees on the three-and-a-half acre property, my
favorite of which sends forth green every year from a trunk that appears
90 percent dead.