We were heading out the door this afternoon (literally) to visit a 98-year-old member of our church, when we got a phone call from Pastor Ken Casillas letting us know that Mrs. Deaton had just died. Micaiah, who was holding a drawing of three crosses that he had made and was planning on giving to Mrs. Deaton, burst into tears. We all are grieving a lady we loved.Mrs. Deaton loved Ruth because she was from North Carolina and loved me because I was Ruth’s husband. She had a wry sense of humor and loved to tease and be teased. I remember the time (before I even became pastor) that I preached over time and didn’t end the service until 20 minutes after noon. She reminded me after the service that some people in the congregation had diabetes and couldn’t wait too long to eat. When I assured her that I would try harder next time to end earlier, she responded with a simple, sweet, yet authoritative, “Do.” When we visited her for the last time last Tuesday, she could hardly speak due to fatigue, paralysis on her right side (the effects of a stroke) and a broken arm that was wasn’t even discovered until later. Though she was clearly aware and appreciative of our presence, she didn’t say anything in return until we were ready to leave. Ruth leaned down and said, “We love you.” She replied, “I love you, too.” Then we promised her that we would return to visit her after our brief trip to North Carolina. She replied with her inimitable, “Do.” We missed that appointment by a couple of short hours.
Mrs. Deaton ministered to me as a pastor because she always had a vital interest in the progress of our small church. She had a definite opinion about why this or that person hadn’t joined yet, etc., but, oh, how she rejoiced when new members were added to the body. She had passed her 97th birthday before she had to stop coming regularly to church. I’m praying I’ll have a similar record of faithfulness.
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