PLAIN VIEW HERITAGE FARM,

RURAL BRYANT, SD, PRESENTS:

"To Lenita:

My Cousin,

Heaven's Rose,"

by Ron Ginther

I

Twenty four years have passed--

it hardly seems that long!

Your spirit and your smile

they shine so bright--

is my calendar wrong?

1989 in November of the year,

you left this life for Better,

yet you don't seem far, but near.

Once you sang with your family

beside my cabin on Washington's Clear Lake,

a Gospel song just for

us kinsfolk's sake?

In a year or two you would sing

no more, oh, no more,

that is, until you stepped

joyfully through the Crystal River

to heaven's shore.

But I think how you might have been active,

even with common tasks most people consider dull.

How you washed and ironed your clothes,

not with a washer either, but by hand

--how slow and tedious that goes!

But you always wanted to look your very best,

and scrubbed out the least dirt particle,

determined to go out to present

Christ the Savior

without spot or wrinkle!

No one knows how you felt when "it" happened--

did you know anything

or was that mercifully prevented?

Perhaps the next thing you knew,

was finding heaven's glories

burst into view.

And your Grandpa Carl

and other loved ones there

greeted you rejoicing

with bouquets of flowers

so profuse and fair!

But it had to be Jesus

who gave you the greatest

of rewards.

"Why give her flowers?"

he could ask them.

"She's MY rose,

the rarest and loveliest

My garden affords."

II

Now sixteen years ago, 1997,

marks fifty years passed

since Dad and Uncle Art flew

heavenward--should I be downcast?

They all lost this life early,

but gained joy unspeakable:

the Presence of Jesus forever

amidst glories indescribable.

You all know two years ago Mother

graduated to heaven,

followed

by my youngest sibling,

and then my oldest brother.

But I give it ALL as offering to the Lord,

and my losses are then made a gain

according to His eternal Word.

Just consider the Scriptures

whose promise I can fully claim,

they can raise up a broken spirit

and make it dance

though once lame.

Psalm 30: 11, 12:

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;

you have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with

gladness,

to the end that my glory may sing praise

and not be silent, O Lord my God,

I will give thanks to you forever.

Psalm 30: 5

For his anger is but for a moment,

His favor is for life;

weeping may endure for a night,

but joy comes in the morning.

Note: We are aware that some of us had little occasion to know Lenita before 1989, some not at all; my own contact was very little, mostly hearing about her in letters that came to Mother from Aunt Cora or her parents Beth and Dan Templeton.

Though slight in contact, or even non-existent, we can still identify, since we have all lost loved ones so dear to our hearts. It is always "early" to the heart, there can be no "late going" to the heart. God made us so, but we can find the Balm of Gilead is still active in Jesus, which the sad old world knows nothing of.

Somehow they "handle" such losses and "move on," whereas we MOVE TOWARD IN CHRIST, to be rejoined to our loved ones on a day of unspeakable joy when Christ will come with all the saints--or when we individually depart this life the moment Christ calls us home. Either way, it is a win-win situation, as they say--we no longer have to be separated, we will enjoy fellowship forever.--Ed.


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