The Lance Wood Chapel

Recently, while walking on the beach fronting the family summer place here in northen Michigan, I came to the little rope-swing hanging out over the sand. It’s been there, or one like it, for decades. My mind raced back over 43 years to the day on that very spot of the swing that our son Lance sat in that swing as a one year old. Three months later he was dead, taken by an insidious brain tumor.

I remember how brave he was during his treatments. I don’t remember him crying, though I may have shut that out. I do remember the last word he spoke -- his older brother’s name.

I am most grateful the Session of The Church of the Hills named the chapel in Lance’s memory. Here’s a photo, sent recently by a dear friend, of the plaque attached to the center post in the narthex of the church.