On the 1st of July 2010 the memorial service for Mark Woodman took place in Ladismith, Western Cape. For those of you who would have loved to be there, but couldn't make it, we would like to relate the happings.
Memorial service Mark Woodman

The lace of winter trees traced patterns on the clear, blue sky, emphasizing the harshness of the towering mountains on the back-drop. One could still see traces of snow up on the top where the sun's heat has not yet been able to reach. I parked in front of the NG church in the little town of Ladismith in the small Karoo in front of the big old trees folding their still green arms around the church.
At the entrance I'm handed the bulletin with Mark's face on the front cover - smiling, full and strong. My heart cringed at the realization that it is Mark we are saying goodbye to. In the hall-way there is a colourful fynbos flower arrangement, with next to it a portret of Mark, his veldhat and sunglasses next to it. The lump in my throat grows thick and when my eyes fell on his boots, tears started rolling down my cheeks. Yes, the simple things in life were important to him - like going for a walk in the mountain with his family. Potret van 'n evangelis

I found a seat and looked at the people around me. Still. Thoughtful. Then the uplifting words from the Messiah started to sound and the hirsch was slowly carried in. "I know that my Redeemer liveth" - indeed, He does. Walter Veith was standing behind the pulpit and we waited until the last, beautiful notes died away. Then he opens with prayer and by the sound of his voice I knew - he was sad.

The proceedings were solemn, yet peaceful, a quiet trust in the resurrection carried us. Mark clung to this and found peace in this belief - a comforting thought to us.
Broers in geloof

We listened to the story of Mark through the eyes of a loving father and I remembered when I first met him.

Walter talked about his young friend, taking comfort from the Bible. Yes, to understand is difficult. But the certain trust that the Lord's thoughts are far above ours and that He only wants the best for His children, set us at ease.

All that helped and all who gave and received with joy were thanked. Also those who prayed. We sang some of Mark's favorite hymns - "Abide with me" and "'n Vaste burg is onse God".

Just when we thought, reluctantly, it was time to part with the comforting presence of brothers and sisters, we were surprised with a personal message from Mark. It had been recorded a day or two before his admittance to hospital. Those who had been able to keep their pose up to now, felt the wet tears on their cheeks. From the corner of my eye I noticed Retha - her shoulders shaking with grief, her motherly arm circling little Lori.

Mark said his farewell, said thank you and encouraged us to carry forward the work of spreading the gospel with vigor and earnestness.

The closing hymn was sung and Walter closed with prayer. Then the hirsch was carried out by brothers, uncles and friends.

'n Kind troos vir Mamma

We said our last farewell to Mark with a white rose-bud, and I remembered "Even though your sins be like scarlet..."
'n Pa by sy seun se kis

Until we meet again, Mark. Soon.
Totsiens, Mark

 

Written by Eulalie Mombers