Devotional 6-26-09

My dad, Floyd Taylor, died on May 15. He lived 80 healthy years and suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke a week before his death. Dad was kind, loving, and fair. He knew something about everything. If he didn’t know it, he could fake it pretty convincingly. He was a family man and a servant of God. He loved his church, Cross Lanes United Methodist Church. He was a prolific writer for his church’s newsletter. A humble man, he preferred to challenge his readers from behind the scenes, using the “Anonymous” pseudonym. Often, his writings found their way into these devotionals—anonymously. At the visitation and funeral, I heard from many of Dad’s former co-workers, neighbors, church friends, the yard man and others about how Dad had touched them. Karyn Stagg, a church friend of my parents, shared the following story with me and then wrote the article for the Cross Lanes United Methodist Church newsletter. She gave me permission to include it here.—Jeff Taylor

I wanted to pray over Floyd. He must have prayed over me instead.
No one really had a chance to say goodbye to Floyd Taylor. Not only was he not sick, he seemed as healthy as a horse. It was a devastating loss not only to Floyd’s family, but to our church family. Like everyone, my husband, Alan, and I were also distraught. When the prayer call came, Alan was on his way to Pittsburgh. I called to let him know Floyd was in ICU, and he called three times to get updates. You see, we are ushers and Floyd was the Universal Usher Extraordinaire. Some would call him Head Usher, but he was much more than that. It will be difficult to walk into the church without Floyd’s updates—his smiles—his kindness—his willingness to find substitutes when you forgot it was your ushering month and had planned a vacation! Floyd “covered” for a lot of people. Organizing the ushers wasn’t Floyd’s only church activity: he also oversaw the liturgists and wrote “anonymous” articles for the Newsletter. Most don’t know that he was initially involved in the Prayer Shawl Ministry, an off-shoot of the Prayer Committee, which I serve. Soon after the Prayer Shawl Ministry was started, shawls were sent to Floyd and Gerry’s son-in-law, Michael, and daughter, Janice Kruger. Michael had developed a devastating illness. Floyd wrote a beautiful short verse regarding the shawls; a piece we read when we deliver and before we pray for eh recipients. (Read it below). Now the Prayer Shawl Committee planned to deliver a shawl to him. Our talented knitters make beautiful shawls; it’s a special ministry and it’s a privilege to deliver them. And this was one shawl I absolutely wanted to deliver. But, life doesn’t always work the way we plan. Floyd was faltering and the shawl had to be delivered immediately. As things go, I couldn’t be there. Thankfully, Floyd got the shawl, but I was disappointed I couldn’t pray over him (and Gerry) before he departed to Heaven. As I dressed for Floyd’s wake, I went to my closet to choose a jacket. For some bizarre reason, I chose a wool one I hadn’t worn in a couple of years and really don’t like! It was too heavy for the recent weather and I had better choices. Why wear this? I thought as I put it on. However, when I slipped my hand into the pocket, my reason for choosing it became apparent: there I found Floyd’s handwritten verse carefully folded. I hadn’t seen it since he wrote it and since I had copied it onto my computer to give to our committee. Awed, I read it anew and put it back in my pocket before heading to the funeral home. I had wanted to pray over Floyd, but it appeared he was one step ahead of me. As the tears fell, I could see Floyd standing next to Jesus with a smile on his face! “It’s okay, Karyn. We’ve got you covered.”………….We miss you Floyd.

Karyn Stagg

Floyd’s Verse
Prayer shawls are a ministry of the Cross Lanes United Methodist Church. Each shawl becomes a consecrated enduring gift for a child of God faced with difficult challenges. It is prayerfully handcrafted to a length approximating the length of the outstretched arms of an adult. While the artistry is the work of a few, the gift is from the congregation. When you place it around your shoulders, know that you are being embraced by a host of God’s people who regularly lift you up in prayer.