All Shall be Well

Those of you who knew pastor Norm Koop know why we grieve so deeply. He was a vigorous, dynamic man, an excellent teacher and a humble leader. You don’t often find those together; add to them a goofy sense of humor and you have a character: one who leaves an indelible imprint.

He died in foliage season, but a fallen leaf is not a good metaphor when a man of this caliber dies in the prime of life. A leaf fades and falls because its work is done. He was a prize apple tree destroyed one night by lightning.

But his death sure has stirred up a bee hive of thought. Here are some of the things I have been thinking about:

  1. Norm had ten talents and used them to return a hundred. I have two. Living and dying well comes by serving authentically with what you have. I’ll serve even if it seems small.
  2. I held back from getting to know Norm and Anne better because I didn’t want to push myself forward, to be a bother, to take up their time. And so I lost a the great gift of knowing and being known by Norm. A shame.
  3. We have been in the presence of greatness. I will not take excellence for granted again.
  4. I meditate on the Word more, reading it more often during the day. We are going to read to the family at supper time, a practice we had when the kids were little but didn’t continue, for some reason. The youngest boys and I have been slowly studying Psalm 1. This evening after supper I read aloud Boice’s commentary on Psalm 1 and we found both familiar ideas and rich expansion. And I noticed how peaceful and how right it felt to be experiencing it together. Why did we stop??
  5. I need my Christian family. The mutual sorrow and comfort of these men and women helped me and my family walk through our grief. They are so very dear to me.

I am grateful that we just happened to be on school break these two weeks, having two weeks to do one week’s worth of work. In a brain fog most days, I was glad to have the cushion of the extra days. I only wish my two college children could have been here to say farewell in person.

It is a good life, and then it gets better. “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” –Julian of Norwich

About lettersfromheartscontent

Mother of six, homeschool teacher, tutor with Classical Conversations, wife to a forester and educator. I tend a perennial garden with a riot of blossoms, ride my bicycle in and out of the watershed, play ocarina and a boom-chick accompaniment when my kids feel like playing contradance music. I love being home, but I love an open road and adventure, too. Classical Conversations' Writers Circle carries my article on some aspect of classical education once a month.
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