By Brenda Cannon Henley
The human heart cannot hold or imagine the things of God and we certainly do not know what our future, or the next day of our life, holds in store for us. It is good that we do not know because, if we did, we would tend to worry, fret, plan, and be futile in our effort to pack everything in that we deemed necessary. God does, indeed, know best for us. I have experienced that again this week in my own life.

On August 2, I left Texas, with a packed car, several outfits of clothing, shoes and bags, swimsuits, towels, and décor for a wonderful party in Atlanta, Georgia, where I was born and reared. I had been helping my niece with the wonderful 50th Wedding Anniversary Party for my brother and sister in law, and two of my best friends in the world. I had been in attendance at the original wedding in our church in Decatur, Georgia, on August 6, 1966, and we were thrilled that the day of the celebration fell on a Saturday, and the exact date of August 6th. My niece had secured a wonderful setting of an old cotton mill in the area, which had been converted and now used as one of the Grace Fellowship of churches.

The setting was just marvelous and we welcomed over 300 friends and family members of a lifetime. It was so good to see everyone, many from the first years at our church, and family from several states. All three of my own children were there, along many of my grandchildren, and before the afternoon wore into evening, my heart was nearly bursting with joy and fun. We enjoyed great food and superb music of our era. Robert and Teresa Stancil are well loved and this celebration documented that fact.

On Tuesday following the party, Teresa and I again packed my car and headed to the white sand beaches, and very blue water, of Panama City, Florida, a place we often vacationed as young mothers and church staff members. We had fun! The second day there, I received a call letting me know that my brother, ten years younger than me, had been placed into in-hospice care at the same Abby Hospice my dad was in before he died. I offered to head home to Atlanta immediately, but everyone said it could be a while.

It wasn’t very long before I received a second call from my sister saying that our brother was very ill and most likely dying. The thing that took our breath away was that it was the day before our only other brother, John, had died the year before. No one believed that J. L., the second brother, would die on the exact same date as his brother.

However, that was exactly what happened — August 12th would forever be seared into our memory. Both boys, biological brothers, died on the exact same day — One year apart. And, on Tuesday, the 16th, my husband, Ted, will be dead for two years. My mom also died in August, so I am not liking the eighth month of the year very much at all. My sister said to me, “I don’t know about you, but next August 12, I am going to be somewhere in a church, on my knees, praying.” She was teasing and trying to lighten our burden, but in all my 73 years, I have never heard of siblings dying on the same day. It is a bit uncanny.

Today, we buried our younger brother. It still seems surreal to me. I know the facts and I attended the viewing, the funeral, and burial, but my heart does not believe it yet. My brother’s pastor brought a wonderful message of hope and love following a delightful eulogy given by my nephew about his dad. The message centered on Psalm 23, a well- known passage of Scripture used often in funerals. However, Pastor Oliver used it differently than anyone I have heard. He said, “If the first five words of what I am going to read doesn’t apply to you, then don’t listen any longer. Don’t pay attention to what else I say. The message won’t be for you.” And then he read very carefully, “The Lord is my shepherd…”

He went on to say that the Lord was my brother’s shepherd and that it changed his life completely. It will change ours, too, if we let it. With this crazy ten days I have just lived, I leave us with one thought, “Is the Lord our shepherd?” If not, I urge us to find someone we trust, someone we can talk with, a pastor, teacher, friend, or relative, and get this matter settled while we have time. The next call even in the midst of celebration, travel, happiness, or sorrow could be saying that our time on earth has come to a close.

Brenda Cannon Henley can be reached at (409) 781-8788, or
[email protected].