Early this week I was struck with the sudden news that Robin Wood, a former parishioner in Indianapolis, passed away from an inoperable brain tumor. Robin was a single mother who struggled hard to provide for her daughter through what seemed like an endless series of odd jobs, most involving difficult and low-paying labor. She did all this with poor health. In short, she was beloved by both Elizabeth and I and will be greatly missed. This morning, Pastor Don Bartemus, who is performing the funeral, will read the following - a brief memorial I wrote for Robin. I share it with you in order that you might celebrate Robin's life and be graced anew with God's goodness to all the wide variety of saints out there. Here it is:

It is with great sadness that I write this brief memorial. My deep condolences to Robin’s immediate and extended family, and especially to Janalynn.

For years, Robin faithfully attended the singles ministry I was in charge of at College Park. In light of this, I hope to pass on a few brief reflections concerning Robin.

Like Nathaniel in the Gospel of John, Robin was a person “in whom there was no guile.” Robin was as real as they get. When she was doing well, you knew it. When she needed help, you knew it. When she was struggling over an issue, she honestly admitted it.

I will always remember Robin because she took my ministry seriously and listened attentively. She had a deep desire to understand the mysteries of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. If she did not understand something I said in a sermon, she would blurt out a question with no concern for what others thought. Though some probably looked down on this, I knew that she was proving how much she wanted to understand – she wasn’t about to let anything get in the way, including the possible disapproval of others.

This continued even after I left College Park to begin my ministry in New England. Last year I visited College Park and was scheduled to give a 3-5 minute communion devotion. I introduced myself by giving a brief update about my work in Connecticut. Robin shouted out from the congregation, “How’s Elizabeth (my wife) doing?” or something to that effect. That led me to give an extended summary and answer other questions as well – a time that all enjoyed, provoked by Robin’s bold curiosity.

Robin took her faith seriously. Though she had her difficulties (like all of us) Robin (unlike most of us) was honest about them – brutally honest. She shared her struggles. She wrestled with obedience. She fought with temptations – sometimes winning, sometimes losing. But when she fell short, she did the most important thing: she grieved, repented, and pressed forward with new strength. Though she grew tired of giving in to her “besetting sins” I never grew tired of hearing her broken before God and crying out for fresh grace – grace that was always there to embrace her anew. God gave me the great privilege on a number of occasions to share his grace, love, acceptance, and encouragement with Robin. And I always knew she took these times seriously.

Robin did not have an easy life. She worried about finances, jobs, health, and her parenting of Janalynn. Janalynn, I want you to personally know that I’ll be praying for you. Your mother so desperately wanted to be a good mother to you. I remember how she literally dragged you into our meetings sometimes. Thank you so much for your patience all those Thursdays at Teknon! I miss those times and will always remember them with joy and fondness – and you, Janalynn, were part of it.

If there is one thing I will miss, it will be Robin’s unique, unmistakable, unhindered laugh. Sometimes, in the middle of preaching I would say something that tickled her, and she would let out an uproarious belly-laugh. Again, some people probably looked down upon such open expressions. But I didn’t! I was pleased to hear that someone was listening, and laughing, and unconcerned about what others would think.

I am convinced that when God completely restores and renews all things in the new heavens and earth that I will not have to “find” Robin. I will hear her from afar. Her laugh will be obvious. It will fill the space she is in and, finally, no one will misunderstand it or find fault with it. And she will have every reason to be laughing because she – a simple, hard-working, stumbling saint – will have the last laugh on sin, death, and demonic powers. None of these things will prove able to separate her from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus her Lord and we will laugh together so wildly with abandon that everyone will know that grace has won the day. And I am convinced that Jesus will laugh along with us.

I wish I could say I was laughing right now as I write this, but I am not – I am crying. Goodbye, Robin, until we meet again! Love, Pastor Rich.