Today the rest of my family traveled the hour to Valentine, Nebraska, to attend the memorial service for Jeremiah Smith, son of former SIM missionaries. His body has never been found after the kayak accident in the Allegheny River where he had jumped into a kayak to cross the river in PA.
I felt bad to miss the service, but after this last chemo, I just haven't been able to do much. I was terribly exhausted by the time the rest of the family left about 11 in the morning.
A friend sent me pictures from Jeremiah's memorial service back east. And I wrote a little poem to put in a card for the family.
Jeremiah Smith, just one of eight
Of a family grown up in a prairie state,
Out in all seasons on the prairie sod,
Tending his work and reaching for God.
He had a face that was often a-smile
With a grin that reached at least a mile,
"The life of the party"--he was full of fun
Until his earthly life was done.
Whatever he did, he did with his might--
Whether work or play, whatever was in sight.
In his service to God as a bright young man,
He'd say, "I'll give the Master the best that I can."
A missionary pilot he felt called to be,
And his family supported this faithfully.
Flying lessons and studies went under his belt
As he aimed for the north where the arctic is felt.
Jeremiah was baptized one day at Spring Creek,
With a testimony, determined God's will to seek.
He was buried under water with Christ crucified,
And he rose--wet but happy--Christ living inside.
Buried in Christ's death, whether river or creek,
Jeremiah left us a treasure to seek--
A heart that is set to follow the Lord,
To believe all His promises, trust in His Word.
Was buried in a river of God's love and grace.
God reached and took him to the Sweetest of Springs--
Not in an airplane, but on angel wings.
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