Finding calm, condolence in commemorating hero Published March 7, 2019 By Lt. Col. Ruth Segres Air Force Chief of Air Force Chaplain Accessions JOINT BASE SAN ANTONIO-RANDOLPH, Texas -- I don’t remember looking out into the audience, nor do I remember the actual moment I preached. I was not cognizant of anyone, my feelings, thoughts, nerves or emotions. My hero’s burial at Arlington National Cemetery came and went. All I knew was the family needed me as their spiritual leader so, for five months of funeral planning, I focused on their need, not my nervousness. This is where I found my calm. The planning season started when I received an unexpected phone call from a retired colonel, Michelle Gardner-Ince, or "G-I" as I call her. She opened her conversation by asking me if I was familiar with Maj. Gen. Marcelite Harris. As I held the phone and looked up at the photo of the famed general among the other photos of heroines that I have displayed in every office I occupied for most of my 16-year Air Force career, I was able to confidently acknowledge my familiarity with her. Then G-I shared the sad news Harris passed and said I was recommended for the amazing honor to officiate her funeral. As I stared at my hero’s portrait, I accepted the offer with an expression of humble gratitude. The more I thought of the magnitude of who “THE” Harris was, the more nervousness grew. I started praying. I needed just the right words of comfort and support before I began making arrangements with the general’s daughter, Tenecia Harris, and the family. After our first phone conversation ended, I realized I stood in the middle of my office for an hour and a half engaged in our discussion. Although my voice was calm, my body was tense. So, I started drinking a cup of tea during my prayer times in hopes to calm my nerves while accomplishing this great task. As I sipped, a Google search generated a plethora of websites on Harris’ life and legacy which make up the monumental upward movement for women in service, black women in particular. Over the course of weeks of research that followed, the theme that surfaced in my mind was “enduring power.” Being the first woman and first African American in many areas of her career, breaking barriers and making history was the manifestation and personification of her enduring power. A biblical theme also resonated with me about those who made up “a great cloud of witnesses” by exemplifying and modeling endurance in Christian living as a likely comparison as to how Harris was the epitome of an Airman. During the week before the funeral my nerves were in overdrive. I tried not to look at the star-studded list of attendees because it only added to my nervousness. I had no appetite, sleep evaded me, and every day I re-read and edited my sermon. On the entire plane ride to Washington D.C., I prayed. 'Lord, help me' was my constant prayer. I asked for the Lord’s grace to minister to the family, to all in attendance and to calm my nerves while focusing on their needs. The night before the funeral, I reconnected with friends whom I had not seen in years. Unbeknownst to them, each one contributed to my state of nervousness. They asked me if I was ready, if I had ways to deal with the pressure and if I could deliver the sermon as well as they had seen me do before. They tried to bring calm to the atmosphere with compliments about my reputation as a preacher while also reminding me again who could be in the audience, people like President Barack Obama were rumored to be coming. Once I retreated for the evening, I ordered a large mint tea at the hotel to help release tension. But at 3 a.m., I woke up as if I had a full eight hours of sleep. Knowing I needed to be the best me I could be for the big day that was rapidly approaching, I looked over my sermon several times before I went to bed two hours later. After that I only got another hour’s rest. Between my first appointment at Fort Myers Memorial Chapel and the long-anticipated 11 a.m. funeral service, I sat in my car praying and reading my sermon over and over. I also upgraded my usual tea to an extra-extra hot, hot chocolate with no foam or no cream. It is a comfort drink. I was really nervous. I returned to the chapel in time for Harris’ family to be escorted in the sanctuary as I got in my position in front of the coffin carrying my hero’s remains. Instantly, I teared up at the reality this great leader has passed and her family will forever be physically without their loved one. While I sat there, waiting to deliver the sermon, questions and concerns rose inside of me. When my preaching moment was over, I had an adrenalin rush. I don’t remember it nor do I remember returning to my seat but I felt my right hand shaking uncontrollably. The need to sing rose in my heart so I slipped up my hand toward Heaven. My voice started harmonizing with the musician’s words, “It is well! It is well; with my soul!” The next day, when I returned to San Antonio, I received many emails from attendees of the service thanking me and explaining how the eulogy blessed them. So many people requested a copy of my manuscript, I thought to myself 'I must get a copy of the DVD to hear what I said.' Emotionally, I came full circle. Once again, I was humbly honored for being recommended by retired chaplains and requested by the Harris family to give the eulogy for my hero. The outpouring of affirmation not only proved I got the sermon right but I also met my mission too, in life and in death, care for Airmen’s S.O.L.E. (Spiritual Outlook on Life’s Events), the work my soul requires.