I’ve attended more funerals than I care to remember, each one painful but different. I once attended the service of a homeless man named Roger who was dear to our church. As with most services, the pastor gave those in attendance a chance to say a few words about him. I remember sitting there thinking how awkward this was going to be. I have been to funerals where no one wanted to speak—how could anyone have anything to say about a homeless man?
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