As I drove home from church that crisp fall Sunday, it wasn't the closing hymn that was running through my head, as is usually the case. It was a phrase from the eucharistic prayer. It was as if, for me, the liturgy had come to a resting place on a simple petition that has only grown in its significance:
O God, you are nurse. May no one die alone or in pain.
I suppose this plea is like many we routinely make to God: for peace, an end to hunger, wisdom for our leaders. We pray with both sincerity and — for those things that seem insurmountable — skepticism.
In the days and weeks following my dad's unexpected death June 6, my family and his friends found comfort knowing that he died (as far as we know) quickly and amid activity at his lake home — the place he loved.
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