You have washed us with love. You have covered us with the aroma
of kindness. You have clothed us with the garments of peace. You
have adorned us with the flowers of praise. We have become still
and quiet, lest we step on any sweet petal of grace.

In the stillness we think, "This is, I suppose, the way it will
be in heaven - lavishings of undeserved goodness." But now it ends.
Then it won't. It will only get better and better. Then we will not
be awkward with excessive focus on us, for we will all be assisting
joyfully in the focus on all. And we will all have a perfected eye
for how to show that every token of goodness in a saint is the work
and the wonder of Christ himself. It will be plain to everyone that
all our blessings were bought by the blood of the Lamb. "You are
not your own. You were bought with a price" (1 Corinthians
6:19-20). God forbid that we should glory save in the cross of our
Lord Jesus Christ.

Not only were there the outpouring of love to Noel on Saturday
(thank you, Karin Goebel and Pattie Tattersall), and the beautiful
outfit the women bought for her, taking her shopping the week
before; and not only were there the memory-laden quilt (thank you,
White Cross ladies), and the orchestra and choirs, morning and
evening, and the favorite songs - please sing "Give Me Jesus" at my
funeral - (thank you, Chuck Steddom); and the greetings (thank you,
Tim Tomlinson), and the video (thank you, Tom Youngquist), and the
shameless and absolutely hysterical imitations of the preacher
(thank you, I think, TBI guys), and the gift of an air purification
system for our home (an incredibly generous bounty! - but you know,
if it works too well, I may not have to take out my handkerchief so
often, which could ruin the image); and not only were there the
fruit-laden reception (thank you, Carol Steinbach and the rest of
our prayer support team) and the meals brought to our home (thank
you, Ruth Rabenhorst and Carolyn Mickelberg), and the hundreds of
embraces and handshakes, and cards and letters. I say, not only all
that . . .

. . . but then it didn't end on Sunday. On Tuesday the staff had
its annual day away. We went to North Heights Lutheran Church for
the day. And there again, the waterfall of kindness kept pouring
down. Besides the usual love that abounds on such days, there were
two more gifts. One was an absolutely one-of-a-kind "shadow box" of
little cubicles with three dimensional scenes from our years at
Bethlehem and Scrabble letters (because this is the game Noel and I
play most often) spelling out that God is at work (thank you, Joby
Morgan and Gen Cava).

Finally, there was an artistic creation by Joby Morgan based on
a vision of God from Isaiah 6. The point of it is to portray the
greatness and bigness of God. He is seated on his throne, only the
feet of which are visible, standing above the cityscape of
Minneapolis. Falling from the throne is the train of his kingly
robe flowing down around the IDS tower and the First Bank building
and the other skyscrapers in our downtown, and then enveloping
Bethlehem Baptist Church. It is a stunning and unmistakable
statement that "Our God Is an Awesome God." "Holy, Holy, Holy is
the Lord God Almighty, the whole earth is full of his glory." And,
to show you the labor of love, the whole thing was conceived and
carried out with cross-stitch. It already has pre-empted everything
else and hangs over the mantle in our living room. Joby, Joby,
Joby. You had your hand - and heart - in every part of these days
of joy.

To Joby Morgan and Mary Anderson and Karin Livingston and Julie
Steller and the army you recruited -thank you, thank you, thank
you!

Now, dear friends, it is time to look ahead. Three seeming
impossibilities for the year: 3.5 million dollars more pledged (out
of 9 million) by October; 1500 people coming to Christ through our
witness by year end; and 1000 of our people sent in missions in
this year. All built on Christ and his great gospel in the book of
Romans.

I turn with you now to the next chapter with tender gratitude,
forgiven sin, and glad hope,

Pastor John