On behalf of Mom’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, thank you for joining us to celebrate what God accomplished through the life of Susie Ann Harris.

Her children - Bob, Sharon and Sandy.
Her grandchildren - Sharon's daughter Jenny and Jenny's husband Troy, Sharon's daughter Shelly and Shelly's husband Rob.
Her great-grandchildren - Jenny and Troy's kids: Tayler, Clayton, Tori, Cody; and Shelly and Rob's son Benjamin.

After two years as a pastor, Dad returned to CEI as a traveling evangelist and representative of the school.  And wherever he went, Mom and I went with him.  Her musical talents and her warm and engaging personality were great assets to Dad’s ministry, particularly since he was by nature a shy introvert.

In1950, Dad returned to the CEI campus as an instructor of doctrine and dean of men.  A year later, the family expanded again when Sharon, their first daughter, was born.  And later that summer, CEI relocated from Chicago to University Park, Iowa, where a second daughter, Sandy, joined the family in 1956.

Mom retired from running Kiddie Kollege in 1985 so she would be free to travel with Dad.  And travel they did.  Over the years they visited every state except Alaska to preach at camp meetings or conduct alumni dinner rallies. They also went to Burundi and Kenya to visit Sharon, Jenny and Bill, who were serving as missionaries.  And they took an around-the-world tour, thanks to a generous alumnus and the Vennard board, visiting missionaries in Taiwan, Japan, Hong Kong, India and Israel.

In 1996, Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, which progressively affected his mobility and speech, and a year later he and Mom retired from their WGM ministry to missionaries.  As Dad’s illness worsened, Mom was constantly at his side, doing everything she could to make him comfortable.  Caring for Dad took a tremendous toll on Mom physically and emotionally, but it was a price she paid gladly.  Theirs had always been an exceptionally close and loving relationship founded on faith in God’s grace and their mutual admiration and respect, and those qualities never were more evident than during Dad’s final days.

When God took Dad home on March 3, 2007, Mom felt the loss to the core of her being.  But she took comfort in knowing that Dad’s physical challenges had ended and he was where he had lived his life to be. 

Mom fought valiantly to live independently in her own apartment until that was no longer possible, and in late January of this year, she moved to Fountain West Care Center in West Des Moines. As long as her health allowed, she participated in a weekly Bible study and attended a Sunday church service.  A highlight of each day for me was talking to Mom on the phone and taking turns closing our call with prayer.  When Mom no longer could read her Bible and speaking was difficult, Sharon, Sandy and I read scripture to her and prayed with her.  We thank God for the privilege of ministering to Mom in her final days as she had ministered to us all our lives.

Grammy’s youngest great-grandson is Benjamin.  He loved to visit his Gramma Harris and talk to her on the phone, and seeing Benjamin always made Grammy smile that sweet, angelic smile that lit up any room she was in.

When Grammy moved into Fountain West, her roommate had several Beanie Babies on display that she had won playing Bingo.  Now if you know Grammy at all, you know she was a lifelong opponent of gambling.  But the prospect of winning a Beanie Baby for Benjamin overcame her resistance, and after playing in a couple of weekly games she won a pink hippo for him.  Benjamin named it Fruit Snacks and played with it every time we visited her. (A few days later, she won a second Beanie Baby. Maybe it's a good thing she passed before we had to call the Gambling Hotline.) Now the Beanie Babies are in his room, as a continuing reminder of the great-gramma who loved him so dearly and whom he loved in return.

Although my husband Rob never met Grampy, he was privileged to know Grammy and love her like I do.  Their relationship was particularly meaningful for him because he has no living grandparents.  One of his favorite memories of Grammy is the time they collaborated on a big birthday surprise for me.

On the day of the dinner, Rob arranged to leave work early and arrived at Grammy’s house about 30 minutes before I was due there.  Grammy hid him in her closet and told him to wait there until I arrived, and she even hid his plate and silverware so I wouldn’t get suspicious at the extra place setting.  We were getting ready to sit down for dinner when he walked out of Grammy’s closet and gave me the shock of my life!  I don’t know who was more excited, me or Grammy.  She loved being Rob’s cohort and planning the surprise.

Jenny and I could always count on Grammy to be vigilant in protecting our interests, as she demonstrated on one of the rare occasions when she disagreed with Grampy.  I spent my first semester of college at Des Moines Area Community College, about ten minutes away from Grammy and Grampy’s house.  I didn’t have any classes on Friday afternoons, so Uncle Bob hired me to help them with household chores and yard projects.

As soon as I arrived each Friday, Grammy fed me lunch before beginning the day’s projects. At 3:00 p.m. sharp she’d tell me to stop what I was doing and come to the kitchen table for a coffee break.  Grampy kept a log of my hours and, being a firm believer in the Biblical principle of an hour’s work for an hour’s pay, he didn’t think I should be paid for breaks.  But Grammy insisted that every minute I was with them was “on the clock.”  That was the best job I ever had, and I would gladly have done it for free -- but don’t tell Grampy or Uncle Bob.

Those coffee breaks became the foundation of a life-changing friendship.  When we sat down with our coffee and treats, Grammy and Grampy would ask how I was doing.  At first I kept my answers pretty light, but over time I began to open up about deeper issues, including my anger with God and reasons for not being a Christian.  Even though my beliefs flew in the face of theirs, they always listened and carefully measured their responses.  A few days after these talks, I’d often receive a card in the mail from Grammy with Scripture verses pertaining to whatever we’d discussed and a promise to keep praying for me.

The seeds planted during those conversations reaped a harvest when I transitioned to Vennard the following semester.  I didn’t last past the first chapel service – I finally surrendered and accepted Christ.  Grammy and Grampy were the very first people I told.

Our daughter Tayler is Grammy’s first great-grandchild, and a special memory for her happened last summer, during our first visit after returning to the US from the mission field in Mexico.  As the kids chatted with her, catching up after two years away, Grammy pulled out her Bible and opened it to a certain page.  Tayler looked down and noticed the bracelet she had made for Grammy while in Costa Rica.  Grammy wanted Tayler to see that she still had it and was using it for a bookmark.  That same day, as we were leaving, Grammy informed the kids she’d be praying for them every morning, both individually and all together. That was incredibly special to Tayler, who said, “I’m glad Grandma is in heaven, but I will miss her very much.”

Clayton remembers that Grammy read the little devotionals each day during NanaCamp in 2010. The kids would sit around her and listen as she read.  “The devotions taught us not to be jealous, not to lie, and many other things,” he says.

Tori’s fondest memories of Grammy were our visits to her apartment where we’d share a meal and the kids would swim in the pool.  She especially enjoyed it when Grammy came down to the pool to watch them swim.  Tori always got excited visiting Grammy because it was so much fun just being with her.  In Tori’s words, “She was the best Grandma ever!”

Grammy was horrified she’d been seen in public that way. Jenny says, “We noticed, of course, but we just assumed she had worn them on purpose since the field was so muddy. All the way home, she just kept muttering with great disgust about being seen in her paint pants.”

On a more serious note, Jenny recalls a prediction of Grammy’s that eventually came true.  “Troy and I had been dating for only a few months when Vennard closed in 1995,” she says.  “He moved to Kansas with his brother John and sister-in-law Heidi to attend Barclay College, and shortly thereafter we broke up.  I was living with Grandpa and Grammy then, and while we didn’t discuss it, she seemed to understand how difficult the breakup was for me and how much I still loved Troy.

“After Vennard reopened, I helped Troy, John, and Heidi move back to University Park and they then drove me back to Ankeny.  Grandma watched my interaction with Troy during their short visit, and after they went home, she said, with a gleam in her eye, ‘I see you got back together.’ When I explained that we hadn’t, she simply looked at me and smiled.  ‘That’s not how it looked to me.’  Grammy clearly saw and knew something we didn’t, because less than a month later we were back together, and were engaged a little over five months later.”

For me, two of the things I loved most about Grammy were her smile and how much she loved her family.  She was always quick with a smile, especially when her grandchildren and great-grandchildren were with her.  I loved watching her as she watched the kids.  The love in her eyes and joy in her heart were evidenced through the smiles on her face.  Sometimes a smile from Grammy was all I needed to forget the concerns of the day.  After all, who cares what else may be going on when Grammy smiled at you? All was right in the world.

“I raced into the little front room and came to a standstill, because Mom was sitting at the table.  With no time to explain, I ran past into the bedroom and crawled under the bed.  The next moment the children’s worker was pounding on the door, insisting that my mother had better bring me out.  I knew it was all over.  Mom would do what she had to and I would be led away.

“But instead, I heard Mom explaining patiently that we had already been to a lot of church that summer.  And that she herself had a little headache so was reading a devotional in their room instead of going to the service.  And that she would keep me with her just that morning.  The more irate the children’s worker became, the more calmly insistent Mom became.

“I finally heard the footsteps stomp away, and Mom called me out to sit with her.  She got out some blueberries, and we sat and ate, talking about everything except what I had anticipated.  No recriminations.  I did of course have to go back to the hankie waving the next day.  But from that moment I knew without any doubt that Mom would always have my back."

“When Dad’s health forced him to give up driving, Mom became the chauffeur.  They picked me up after work one night to go out to dinner, and rather than taking the wheel, as I usually did, I just got in the back seat.  After Mom brushed the curbs several times, Dad finally said, “Sue, honey, please watch out for the curbs.”  Mom's reply:  ‘I don't know what you're talking about - I haven't missed one yet.’”

Another driving incident reminded Sharon of the importance of tolerance behind the wheel.  “As I drove past the library one day, a car pulled out directly in front of me,” she recalls.  “I hit the brakes and was able to get stopped in time, and meanwhile, the other driver just crept along. 
“I reminded myself that I needed to be understanding.  After all, I would want people to be patient with my mom's driving.  When I pulled up next to the other car at a stoplight and looked over, I was glad I had not succumbed to road rage because it WAS Mom driving the other car.”

In the 1986 Rose Bowl, Iowa’s star running back, Ronnie Harmon, fumbled four times (after fumbling only once all season) and dropped a sure touchdown pass, leading to an upset of her beloved Hawkeyes.  Rumors soon began to circulate that Harmon had been paid to throw the game, and Mom was among the believers.  From then on, simply saying the words “Ronnie Harmon” was all it took to get her engine revving.

A few years ago the family was gathered for a holiday celebration and the conversation turned to heaven and how we might be surprised at who will be there.  To tease Mom, I asked, “If you walk around a corner in heaven and run into Ronnie Harmon, what will you do?”  Knowing how Mom felt about that individual, we all laughed -- including Mom.  Then, when the room was quiet again, she said -- with no hint of humor in her tone, “I’m not worried about that happening.”  I’m sure she was joking -- wasn’t she?

On a more serious note, an essential spiritual lesson Mom taught me is that no problem of ours is too small to be important to God.  Many times during the years when I was not walking with God, I heard Mom pray about matters that seemed far too trivial to merit His attention.  But after God rescued me eight years ago, I realized, as Mom had all along, that God’s concern for us encompasses every detail of our lives.  So today I pray confidently about matters big and small, as Mom always did, knowing that God hears and cares.

Many times Mom found in God’s word a promise that to others seemed unlikely.  But not to her -- she took God at his word, and time and again He proved faithful. Sometimes she received a promise while praying, which then was confirmed by a passage of Scripture.  Other times she found the promise in God’s word and confirmation came through the witness of the Holy Spirit to her. 

Dad described one such instance in his book “The Torch Goeth Onward,” a history of Vennard College he wrote to commemorate the school’s 75th anniversary.  It occurred when the board of directors of Chicago Evangelistic Institute was considering a move to University Park, which Dad and Mom both favored.  As the board deliberated, Mom was in prayer.  Here is how Dad described what happened:

“Finally the long-awaited announcement came: ‘We are not moving to Iowa.’  I went home, heavy-hearted and perplexed, to share the news with Sue.

“To my surprise and suppressed joy, she refused to accept the decision.  The Lord had spoken to her that morning from Ezekiel 12:3: ‘Prepare thee stuff for removing, and remove by day in their sight, and thou shall remove from thy place to another place in their sight.’

“There is no way to gainsay that kind of assurance,” Dad continued.  “Understandably, then, the board’s announcement on July 11 that the June 23 decision had been dramatically reversed was no surprise to Sue.” It was no surprise to Mom because she knew what God had promised, and she knew that God always keeps his word -- as He did many times throughout her life.

Hearing Mom pray was always a delight, because she believed in -- and experienced -- the power of prayer.  As Sharon says, “When she prayed, she expected God to hear her, and her prayers were both compelling and practical.”  I often thought that listening to her pray was like eavesdropping on a conversation between a loving father and a beloved daughter -- and of course it was.

As the end neared for Mom, a hospice worker named Emily who is a friend of Shelly’s visited Mom.  When Emily asked Mom if she wanted to pray, she said yes and then offered what we believe was her last verbal prayer.

“Lord, it's me.  I know you know where I am.  Please come find me. Amen."

And so He did, giving Mom one final opportunity to show us that God indeed answers prayer.

After an April visit, Jenny posted a comment on Facebook that perfectly states what all of Mom’s family are feeling right now.  The emotion is genuine, and I may struggle to get through it without losing my composure.  But everyone else in the family was too chicken to try, so I’ll give it my best shot.  Here is what Jenny wrote:

“When we briefly visited Grammy in April, I knew I probably wouldn't see her again this side of Heaven.  I said goodbye and told her how much she meant to me.  Knowing that she's edging closer and closer to Jesus and that we'll likely be gathering for a funeral before long, I find I'm not as ready to let her go as I expected to be.

“But I already miss her sweet spirit, and I know I'll miss her even more once she's gone.  I have never met a stronger woman of prayer and faith.  O, her boundless faith!  These are the legacies she's leaving behind.

“Grammy, it has been my privilege to be your granddaughter.  I have learned so many things from you over my almost 40 years on earth.  What it means to be a godly wife and mother.  What a servant looks like.  How words softly spoken with grace go a long way to defuse angry situations.  That a hostess knows how to instantly make someone comfortable and at ease in her home.  That a grandma's arms and a little humming sound soothe even the deepest hurts.  That Brownie Bear is relevant to any age. That we should always pray boldly and purposefully, expecting answers--even if the answer is no.

“I love you so, so much.  And because I love you, I'm letting you go with all the joy God can give me--knowing that when it's my turn to enter Heaven's gates, you'll be right there, joyfully waiting to welcome me.”