Psalm 139. 7-12
God is with us … even in death!
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the women and men merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts ….”
No, that’s not from the bible. It’s Shakespeare. As You Like It. Act 2, scene 7 (for what it’s worth). But that’s what came to mind, this week, as I read the information about Angie that I’d been sent. I read their words … about a wife … a mother … a grandmother and great grandmother … And those are the words I thought about. One person – in her time – plays many parts. And, needless to say, in the course of ninety-one years, that one person can play many. Stay-at-home mom … Physical therapy… Assistant … Director …. Volunteer at church … with Meals-on-Wheels … Seamstress … Caregiver … Then, that last, final role of care-receiver …
All the world’s a stage … And I was taken by the parts Angie played. That’s when I thought about the stage itself. About the stages. There was a time when all those parts were acted out on a single stage we would know by heart. Each floorboard. Every footlight. We would play out our life on the same stage our parents played out theirs. And their parents before them. But not Angie. There was Tucson. And then Brownsville. Midland. Austin. Like it is for most of us, her show was scattered across states. A scene here. An act there. And when the end came, when the curtain fell, you came back here for the curtain call. This is where you decided to show your gratitude, your appreciation, for a life well lived, for a role – for all of them – played well.
All those roles. All those places. And only one person saw each one. Only one person was in each place. Psalm 139 …
Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.
Angie, seems to me, was a mover. A mover and a shaker. She did things. She went places. And god was with her every moment of the way. Beside her. Behind her. But most of all, in front of her. One step. Two steps. Preparing the way. Maybe not straightening bends or filling in valleys or levelling mountains. But preparing, nonetheless. Guiding her steps. Blazing her trail. Making her way. Angie may sometimes be confused, but never lost. And when she could no longer go on, god carried her. Carried her in your arms. God was with her. God is with her. And there is nothing she can do, nowhere she can go, that will change that.
All the world’s a stage and all the women and men are merely players. And god? God? God is the writer and the producer and the director! God is the storyline and god is the script! God is the inspiration, the breath! But now, the play has ended … or, at least, her part in it. The curtain has fallen. And if you look and look closely … if you listen and listen carefully … You will see god stand, down front center, and you’ll hear god whisper, “Amen!”