Sadie Stratton Wohlfahrt, Children’s Minister

April 18, 2018


On December 14th of this year my oldest brother passed away unexpectedly. Less than two weeks later, my grandmother followed him.

I’ve learned a lot in the last four months. I’ve learned a lot about God, about myself, about my family, about who my brother and grandmother were. But perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned about who you are. You- the community I love. The family of faith in which I live. The wagons I have circled around me over the last seven years.

This blog is about you.

In the dark days following December 14th, you showed up in ways both large and small, when called and when unexpected (but greatly needed).

I had friends who sat with me while I cried, or simply sat with me in the silence.

Coworkers and ministry workers stepped in and stepped up while I was away.

Some of you picked up my children and took them to your own homes, while I made difficult phone calls or just had to lie down. You kept things normal- and joyful- for little ones who could not understand.

Church family members provided food for the funeral reception, and some kept bringing food many nights after that.

One of you bought beautiful church clothes for my children for Christmas Eve (knowing that I had no time to shop) and another brought toys from Santa, to make sure they had something on Christmas day.

Some of you bought groceries, or graciously sent me to the spa to get away from everything (and everyone).

You shared your stories, prayers, and presence.

You said “We are here now, and we will be here when everyone else has forgotten and moved on.”

One of you said “You were there for us in our darkest hour, and we will be there for you now.”

And that’s exactly how this all works. This is who you are. This is the family. The village. The church.

For Easter, I gave each of my children a small plush Jesus doll to sleep with. They love having him close-by. One night last week, my older daughter couldn’t find “her Jesus” and she was fairly distraught. My younger daughter said, “It’s okay- I have my Jesus! I will lay down with you and put my Jesus in the middle of us and we can share him.”

If that isn’t a metaphor for what we are all doing here, I don’t know what is.

On behalf of my entire family, from the bottom of my heart- thank you for sharing your Jesus with me. Thank you for putting him between us in my darkest night.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:35