for all the saints

On Saturday of last week over 400 people gathered for a deep gratitude breath.

We were celebrating the life and love and wrangle of a beloved friend, father, partner and pastor.  Loren Nelson died after three years of jousting with cancer.  He died with a soul ashine and a gentle enfolding that wafted him into blessing. 

And, we miss him already.

One of the reasons for the missing was the amazing way he had of weaving community around his passions;  the Word made flesh was so alive in the community that gathered to share his memorial service.  There were organic farmers and pastors and compatriots in the movement of justice and there were children and grandchildren and his beloved wife and we sang and laughed and prayed and remembered that one life lived with gusto has the power to shift the stuck.

It’s the sort of funeral I want for my own self.  We laughed and shared compassion around the vulnerable grit it takes to be human.  The music was sublime, the need to witness palpable, and the loving strong. 

We were in a house of worship that has held the voices of the faithful for decades.  Under the copper top, with clouds floating by, we spoke our love and ache and wonder at the miracle of it all.

Life.  Life lived fiercely, tenderly, and eternally.

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