The words sound simple and joyful. Peace be still. It is peaceful here. The birds are singing. The sun is shining. I am sitting by a campfire and in the stillness of the morning, I am thinking of my beautiful aunts. They are all with the Lord. But today, they are also vivid in my memory.

When I was little, I was in awe of my Aunts. They were a quartet of beautiful, black haired creatures, who would sweep into my life at holidays and on brief visits with my grandparents. They lived further away and had new stories to tell at each visit. I thought they were captivating and amazing. In retrospect, I probably saw mirrors of my grandmother and ultimately myself. Dark headed ladies with apple cheeks, and captivating smiles.

How did I make this leap from reflecting on the peace of God to musing about my Aunts? Well, their funerals were celebrations of love. It is surprisingly peaceful to be surrounded by family members of strong faith and deep roots. Peace…calm….freedom from disturbance….tranquility. Perhaps this is not always the image that comes to mind when thinking of funerals. But, I definitely feel the peace of God when I sit with my family and worship together. Celebrating such amazing women had a peace all its own.

The “Be still” part of the equation is not, however, in my family’s vocabulary. I have to be careful which cousin and/or uncle I sit by at both weddings and funerals. We are an expressive and joyful bunch. It takes effort to still your mind when you are worried about being pinched or laughing out loud during the service. But in those moments of celebration and worship, surrounded by a wonderful, chaotic family, it is easy to take time to be grateful.

I am smiling even as I write this thinking of my Aunt Allene. She was a force of nature. Always the first to help in any situation. The drill sergeant of all large family gatherings, she made sure food was served hot and people were where they were supposed to be. She was efficient and effective. I might have been a little afraid of her, if she wasn’t so loving. I always associate her with the preparation of food. She was constantly in the kitchen. Once, at a family wedding, she couldn’t find a ladle so she scrubbed up like a doctor preparing for surgery and stirred the punch with her arm. Unfortunately as a result, she was stained pink to the elbow and it clashed with her dress. We laughed until we cried. When asked why she hadn’t let someone else take care of it or waited until there was a spoon, she simply said that “it needed to be done”. Aunt Allene always did what needed to be done.

Aunt Geraldine was more enigmatic. She lived in Arkansas and was the oldest. She was quiet and serene. She reminded we of Loretta Lynn, with a radiant smile. She never appeared without her children and grandchildren in tow. They were a package deal. We often had to bring the cousins to our house to make sure everyone had a bed. I knew life wasn’t always easy for her. But I just remember that beautiful and joyful smile. I see her relaxed and leaning back in a chair holding grandma’s arm. Aunt Geraldine loved her children and her mamma.

Aunt Mary was softer somehow. She seemed quieter and a little shy. Perhaps this is how she found her place in the family of eight. Or maybe she seemed that way because she was married to a prankster. She would chuckle and her whole body would shake (just like grandma…..and me). I remember her always doing someone’s hair. It didn’t matter if it was Christmas, if you needed a haircut or a permanent wave, she had you covered. She would tell stories in her soft voice, but get tickled halfway through. She would cover her mouth with her hand and wipe her eyes. Aunt Mary took joy in the simple things.

Aunt Reva was like a hurricane in a desert. To me she was glamorous and wonderful. When she was a teenager, she snuck out of the house to be in a beauty pageant (my grandfather would not have approved), and won! She got in a lot of trouble, but grandpa could never stay mad at her. She had a loud strong voice that was somehow soothing at the same time. Her eyes twinkled with mischief and she could hug you into a coma. Always stylish and gregarious, she made me feel like I was the most special little girl in the world. Aunt Reva loved life and loved her family.

So I am sitting in the quiet morning thanking God for my loving Aunts. They modeled various aspects of womanhood and godliness. They weren’t perfect people, but they were perfect role models of how to love, how to labor, how to live in peace, and how to laugh. Someday, my friends and children will tell stories about me. . . Hopefully fondly told. I am fortunate that in addition to my parents, I had a wonderful line of women role models that worked to ensure that others were cared for. They were mischievous and could laugh in the face of troubles. They were humble before God but proud of their families. They persevered in the face of trouble with peace in their hearts.

Peace be still. It is good to sit and give thanks to God for those that came before. To hear in the stillness of morning the echoes of laughter and to see in the breaking of dawn the shadows of dazzling smiles. To wonder in the sunlight how I can bring the same comfort and joy to those that I encounter today. peace….be still….