Anniversary/Funeral--Strange Combination

Leave it to Jonathan and Anna to have the most unusual anniversary imaginable for their 27th!

We didn't have anything planned except possibly eating out together until, restless about wanting to do something for our anniversary, but something more meaningful than eating out,

 I got the brilliant idea to do a happy thing and a sad thing all at the same time--or nearly at the same time.

What if we got a bed and breakfast overnight on our way to Nebraska to the funeral of the mother of someone Jonathan went to school with many moons ago? 

Yeah, totally brilliant way to spend an anniversary!

Still, I thought it was better than not doing anything at all except eating in a crowded, noisy restaurant!

We had reconnected with Becky, daughter of Marsha Kirk who passed away, last year at a camp meeting nearby, and knew she was lonely in Nebraska. And it was only a few hours away, so when I offered to find a cute B&B for Jonathan and me for our anniversary on the way, he said that if his plumbing job finished okay, we might be able to do that. Just to reserve the room, but be prepared to cancel just in case.

His plumbing job went as well as any plumbing job has ever gone, and he was able to come home early on our 27th anniversary. A total miracle!

And the day before, right in the middle of my finding a cute place in Imperial, NE, to reserve for the night with the anniversary gift of money Jonathan's parents had given us, 

I got a call from Becky who had heard from someone that we were coming (even before we had totally made up our minds!)

Would Jonathan and I sing at the funeral? Would we help her and her daughter and another lady with "Treasures on the Other Side" and then sing "I Will Meet You in the Morning" at the graveside?

 So then we felt God must have wanted us to go. 

Even if it meant having to compartmentalize our anniversary on Thursday before the funeral on Friday.

Just across the street from the Balcony House B&B, was a courthouse where a statue of a kneeling veteran had very recently been erected with benches representing every part of the American military. We were amazed that something this religious would be permitted.
 

We had a fabulous evening at our beautiful spot for the night,

enjoying one of the most delightful breakfasts we've had in a coon's age the next morning out on the front porch in the beautiful warmth of a Nebraska morning.

Thanking God for the food and praying for those who were sorrowing.

I know I must be an unusual person, but to me, I received more joy in spending our anniversary on our way to be a support to friends at a funeral than I do just spending our time on ourselves. 

There is so  much more blessing in giving than in receiving!

Before leaving for the funeral, I was making a copy of the song, "I Will Meet You in the Morning" for Jonathan and me to sing at the funeral, and thinking about my sister Iva's observations about different music groups at a convention this year. Some she thought were excellent, flawless, outstanding, and others were not very great. But one of those "not very great" choirs had something else going for it, Iva said. In her words, that choir was "anointed."I stood there by the copier machine, asking God, "What would it cost to be anointed?" And my mind was searching for an answer that wasn't just something popping into my mind, but something Scriptural. Would it cost time in prayer, like hours and hours, for example? Maybe fasting? 

Then I thought maybe I was asking the wrong question, like Simon BarJesus, whom Peter rebuked for thinking the gift of God could be bought with money.

 "How much money do I pay to get the Holy Ghost?" is sort of what that Simon asked. Is it any different to ask, "How many hours do I spend praying to get what some call the 'anointing'?"

Then my mind flashed to where Jesus said some very simple words, "How much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit [the anointing] to those who ask Him."

How much will it cost to have the anointing?

"How much more will He give to those who ask Him."

So I asked.

And in the beastly heat of a Nebraska sun, shaded by the funeral canopy by the graveside, Jonathan and I sang.  A construction worker/layman/bearded middle-aged man, with his gray-haired, not-very-gorgeous wife sang "I Will Meet You in the Morning" simply with my autoharp. We had done very little to the song, just a mite of arrangement, singing all four verses as requested and three choruses.

No tongues of fire.

No mighty winds.

No awe-inspiring voices or arranged music.

 But afterward, a young lady came to me to say she appreciated the song and loved the autoharp for such an occasion. And then tears suddenly sprang to her eyes.

"We could feel the presence of the Lord as you sang," she said.

And my heart was glad. 

 I had not spent hours praying; I had simply asked. 

But the presence of the Lord had been felt.

An anniversary/ funeral combination.

Just another unusual incident in the lives of Jonathan and Anna out on the western prairie.