I waited for the Lord;
He stooped and heard my cry.
He brought me from the pit,
Out of the dungeon mire,
My feet set on a rock,
My footsteps made secure.
My lips he gave a song,
A song to praise our God.

I didn’t want to come here today. I had the hardest time getting out of bed and I had no appetite for breakfast. I felt almost sick. I wanted to simply close the curtains, crawl back into bed, and sleep the day away.

But I make myself eat and get dressed. I make a cup of coffee to push away sleep. I am not going to skip church this Sunday – it is our deacon’s last church service.

For what reason, I don’t know, but God has seen fit to put our church through this trial. Two years after we formed, circumstances have forced our deacon – my closest friend in the church, a mentor, and almost a second father – to move across the country. Three thousand miles. Too far to fully understand. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him and his family again.

So I force myself to make it to church. And as the service starts, as we sing the quietly lilting tune of “I Waited For the Lord,” Psalm 40E in our books, my emotions change. It becomes one of the best services I have ever seen. Every element suddenly becomes close to me, touching me, and I forget how tired I once was. Every line – Almighty and everliving God, hear the prayers we offer in faith – Let your tender mercies come speedily to us, for we have been brought very low – Almighty God, whose nature is… to ever have compassion on them that turn unto thee, strengthen us in all thy goodness – every line is relevant and poignant. Every word I cannot help but say from my heart.

For some reason, it has always been like this. The days I can barely bring myself to church are the days I end up feeling closest to God.

Many will see with awe,
And so will trust the Lord.
Blessed he who trusts in God,
And turns not to false men.
You have worked wonders, Lord;
No one compares to You!
Should I declare each one,
Their number is too great.

There are people who are constantly encouraging others. It is as if they cannot help but try to make others better Christians. Our deacon and his wife are this way.

There are people who can show you what you do wrong, yet never offend you. They can point out your sin, and you will see it and not be resentful. How these people do it, I don’t know. Somehow, their love and desire to see you grow in Christ shine in their words. Our deacon and his wife are this way.

There are people who know the value of community, who see the body of Christ as something far too important to be ignored. And not only do they know its value, – perhaps many do – but they also live it out. They do not let members drift away. They grapple their brethren to themselves, pulling people of many backgrounds together to worship and dance and feast and work, for that is what community is about. Our deacon and his wife are this way. They are our extended family.

And their children? I love them. I’ve been their babysitter several times. I remember reading them a Dr. Seuss book, all of them piled around me, listening quietly, laughing at my voices and begging me to begin another book the instant I finished. Crowded around the TV, two of them on my lap, I remember watching Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin, laughing our heads off.

You want no offering,
Nor ask a sacrifice,
But You have given me
A ready ear to hear.
You ask no off’rings burnt
Nor sacrifice for sin.
So I say, “Here I come,
As in the scroll inscribed.”

Before the charge, the final part of our service, our elder calls the deacon and his family to the front. Putting his hands on each one in turn, from the youngest up to the deacon himself, he blesses them and prays that God will keep them faithful. Seamus, you have been a constant joy to this congregation. May God grant that you grow into a strong warrior. Cherith, it will not be the same without your smile to brighten us. May you grow to be like your mother. And on, over each of them.

I see them trying to hold back tears. I see the same in the eyes of the families around me. It is all I can do to keep from crying myself.

Our elder is done, and we sing the Song of Solomon as we do each Sunday. Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servants depart in peace…. The singing is quiet. There is nothing so moving as a congregation singing a beautiful ancient song, trying hard not to cry and not quite succeeding.

And afterwards. I find myself facing the deacon. He extends his hand, and I shake it – but suddenly we are hugging, neither of us willing to let go.

I don’t want him to leave. I want him to stay and encourage me. I want to talk with him every week. I want him to show me how to live for Christ. I want him to see me as I find a wife, and then I want him to watch my children grow. I want him to be an example to them as a man whose whole heart is for God. Please God, let us meet again.

“You’ll come out to visit, right Tim?”

I embrace him harder. Neither of us attempt to hold back our tears.

“To do Your will, O God,
To me is my delight.
Your law is part of me,
Deep in my heart, O God.”

***
Tim Eaton edits Chasing Hats and goes to a small New Hampshire church. It will not be the same without its deacon.

The song quoted is Psalm 40E in Psalms for Singing – “I Waited for the Lord”.