I was flying back from North Carolina Monday at 6:30 PM and reeling from the news of the mass casualty event two miles from my house. I remembered that three days prior Al read his creative writing about heaven at Bill Lokey’s funeral. I researched my cloud storage and found the text of THE ARRIVAL. I read those lovely words to myself in the loud airport. They gave me great comfort as I imagined my friend, Katherine, landing her own floatplane in a solid and secure place– a secure place so different from bullets shattering all that she held dear and all that she protected fiercely. The Covenant School.
The writing I am posting below helped. But honestly, I felt my collapsing sadness move into deep emotional regulation by sitting in a corner of the gate area and listening to the gentle voices of Bill and Laurie Lokey. They simply reminded me of the dignity we all have and the path we have to love.
Dear Nashville, If we come through this storm– if…we come through this— it will be because we believe in something more powerful than an AR-15 rifle. I admit I feel frozen even on day 5… if you are the same, grab the courage bubbling out of a dying man named Bill and claim it for yourself. He was living on page 199 of a 200 page story when this was taped. But hear him saying that cancer had become his calling and love was the energy of the calling. You can find a few of Josh and Christi’s interviews with Bill and Laurie at the Famous At Home podcast. The words recorded on this episode are saving my soul. Find the link in the blue box .. just click that link. I hope you can hear the good medicine that I held on to . . . every syllable was required at Gate c-6. I was a reluctant woman with a calling but the podcast enabled me to 1. Stand Up. 2. Fly home . . . and 3. Begin again as a Nashville resident during the hardest week of all of our lives.
Al’s Writing for Bill Lokey’s Funeral
The first thing you notice when you enter into the other side, is that you’re in a passenger seat of what appears to be a turbo Beaver floatplane, and the engine is revving up.
Within minutes you’ve lifted off the glistening lake into a sky whose spectacular color you’ve never seen before.So mesmerized by its brilliance, you do not even see the other passengers in their seats but become aware of their presence by joyful “oohs” and “aahs” and some glorious blending of laughter, happy surprise, and hope.
You’ve never felt like this before.Your body is on edge, each cell tingling with something that feels beyond anticipation. I believe it is hope that is no longer deferred.You do not see land below you, but it appears is if everything outside of the window is rushing along with you, like wisps of clouds trying to race you to your destination as if they wanted to arrive before you in order to see your face when you landed in heaven’s waters.
Suddenly you see water below you again, shimmering and sparkling from a colorful refracted light that comes from no source, but simply is. The plane begins to slow as it descends, and a shoreline comes into view. As the plane flies closer, you see movement.It looks like there is a breeze, making the trees sway, but it is not the wind. Soon you see that the movement is throngs of people, running and skipping and flipping and jumping their way to the water’s edge.
Their exuberance is obvious, even from your altitude.
A voice informs you that soon you would be flying low, following the shoreline, allowing you to see the faces of those awaiting your arrivalAs you fly low and close, almost at their eye level, you begin to fly in what appears to be slow motion.Each of the passengers begins to point and to shout the names of friends and family they recognized. You see friends and family who’ve gone before, some standing in the front row, waving so hard that their feet lift from the ground.
You land in the middle of the lake, taxiing closer and closer to the dock. Ahead of the plane, water birds fly in a choreographed dance, a stunning escort of grace. As you get closer, the roar of welcome from the gathered throng fills the air.
Splashes of water erupt as they jump into the lake in eager anticipation of the opening door. Above it all is the sound of music from a loud and joyful chorus, a blend of all that is Christmas and all that is Easter.
As the door of the plane cracks open, the cheering and singing becomes the prelude to a symphony of praise that you will hear forever. And though the choir is bathed in glorious light, there is no sun in the sky, for the Lamb is the light.
The door of the plane opens.
You step onto the dock to warm embraces and kisses. You are home.
Bill – When you are there. When you are home – In the blink of an eye, another plane will land, and another.And we’ll all be on it, one by one. And as it descends, we’ll watch for you in the welcoming crowd, knowing that you’re watching for us.