41 Christmases ago there was Lois Hardy, wife of John; both always a pair as parents. La-Z-Boy Showcase Shop was their newly established family business publicly dedicated to the glory of God and the advance of His Kingdom. As well, each Sunday Lois fluidly played the piano from her heart, all to the glory of God while blessing her other family at South Gorham Baptist Church. It just wasn’t worship there without her. Neither was there a choir or soloist without her accompaniment. Her love for people old and young was invitingly infectious. Even little ones were allowed to quietly sit next to her, their feet dangling and swinging, while she played church hymns with rolling arpeggios. In that seat Lois was in her realm. If not there she would walk the carpet to seek out newcomers with her gracious smile and a genuine “welcome home.”
Just starting as a young ministry couple in Maine, KD & I were seeking to establish a new home for Christmas. Being “from away,” far from family and grandparents, Lois & John soon became “Lolo and Boppa;” surrogate grandparents to our almost 2 years-old son Nathanael (and also to our son Andrew born 4 years later). We were welcomed in, not only to the South Gorham Baptist family, but also to the La-Z-Boy family where little boys could crawl between rows of recliners with matchbox cars in hand; where numerous years of family tradition to follow, we would bring hand decorated Christmas cookies to the store. Even years after moving on to ministry in Yarmouth, delivering the Christmas box of goodies to their store each Advent was like coming home.
Jumping ahead decades to the church merge that became Summit Community Church, there was Lois or Lolo always greeting, always welcoming, never having skipped a beat. Although her own life had served up a heavy beating of heartache and loss, Lois still treasured her Lord and His people. No longer church pianist she played the keys of hearts that would pass by her to worship, each key familiar to her touch. For this officially unofficial “greeter”, although the chords greatly broadened with increasing numbers, her intentional gracious smile was just as broad. Coming in with my much needed rollator-walker in hand I would lean down to her sitting on the seat of her own rollator-walker with bulletins in hand to pass out by the door. We would greet each other and “clink glasses.” That too was a tradition that became “coming home to worship.”
Now behind prescription glasses, our eyes had each seen change in church buildings and Bodies over the years (needless to say, in our own physical bodies too!) There had been tears from joy & laughter, from sorrow & grief. Our eyes had viewed the gains and losses of church growth, from births, to baptisms, to weddings, to funerals. Indeed, Lois Hardy had played for them all. Especially, our eyes had witnessed the miraculous works of God as visions became reality; that long dreamed for had at last became actuality, right in our own worship home.
This was Lois’s heart. More than once, during or right after a worship service at our new Summit location, I would go over next to Lolo. I’d get close and whisper, “Isn’t this absolutely marvelous? Can you feel it too? Our eyes now have the privilege of seeing what those who have gone before us didn’t have the chance to see!” Her eyes would already be welled up in the Spirit. It was glorious to see with her what the Lord had done and was doing before us. Imagine how glorious Heaven would be! One day, by faith in the Savior, we would be home.
With failing health not to outweigh her unflagging hope in Christ, Lois longed for her Heavenly Home. Still, she also clung to her hope of returning from hospital bed to her rightful seat at Summit’s door to be with her physical and spiritual family. Finally, when it became clear that her earthly tent was wearing out and would soon be exchanged for her heavenly dwelling, she desired to come home and finish out her days there. She did. Surprisingly the next day, even in her diminished condition, Lois momentarily rose to the occasion and was characteristically welcoming and present from her bed to family gathered around her. And their was joy mixed with occasional laughter, as only a close family could do. Call it a last “Home Going Gift” from God and Lois.
Later Lois, our dear Lolo, finally breathed out her last breath on earth to breathe in her first breath of Heaven. No longer a “greeter” at our church door, she herself was greeted and welcomed in at a far greater Door. Thanks be to God. And now our cherished dear one is Finally Home For Christmas.
—RWO/MAST
Comments by Ric Ochsner