In Memorial

Our Lord has called our shipmate to sail with Him in eternally calm waters forever free from the storms and tempests of mortal life. We honor and cherish the memory of our shipmate, but we do not mourn for him/her for he/she has found refuge in the great harbor of eternal peace. Rather, it is for ourselves that we mourn; for a good friend has slipped his/her moorings in the night and is no longer among us. We will miss his/her hand on the helm. We will miss his/her shoulder next to ours. We will miss his/her encouragement and counsel as we meet the storm and strife of life.  We of the Coast Guard Auxiliary mourn our loss, but we are consoled by the abiding faith that when the final watch changes for us and we too cross the bar our shipmate will be waiting to lead us into safe anchorage.

When our sailing nears its ending

When our course is all but run,

When the scenes of past endeavor

Crown upon us one by one,

When we see in true perspective –

Knowing wrong and knowing right,

May we say, like Saul of Tarsus

I have fought a noble fight.

May we find our life-long courses

Have not been steered in vain

Lest the bearings we have plotted

Must be reckoned out again.

When we leave our earthly bodies

Buried deep in sea or sod,

May our endeavors be our glory

When we go to meet our God.

We bid you “Hail and Farewell”, shipmate, until we drop anchor beside you at the last great Rendezvous. Mourn not for our departed shipmate who has sailed to the Port of No Return. He/She has at last dropped anchor in the harbor eternally secure from gales and raging seas of life. Let us find consolation for ourselves in the knowledge that when God so wills, we too will join him/her there, and with him/her enjoy eternal tranquility. The Soul departed in the Lord does not die, it returns to God, who is the Giver of Life. Amen.

CROSSING THE BAR

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me,

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea.

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For tho’ out our bourne of time and place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar.