A dear friend of mine was "promoted to glory" and I have the privilege of conducting her service today.
I find that I am tired of death. Of sadness.
A very pregnant me in the end of March sat and held the hand of a soldier dying slowly over a painfully long week for his family. For months we knew this was coming but when it did it felt so slow for all of us. All were waiting for release--for peace.
When he did pass I sat with him alone in his room looking at him knowing that just his body was there and that his soul had already gone on to be with the LORD. I read scripture over him and prayed with his family and stood guard in the room alone with the person tasked with taking his body. I watched as he prepared to cover him up and take him on his way. As the body left I dropped back to stand and watch with the family eventually shuffling them away from the sight as we hugged and prayed some more. We were all waiting for release--for peace.
A few weeks later my phone rang early in the morning alerting me to the fact that my 56 year old mom was unexpectedly on a respirator (which she did not want!) and sorting through the next few days was difficult. I watched her take her last breath via facetime with a dear friend as my contractions to have baby Benjamin were already in full force. The entire time all of us felt like we were just holding our breath. Those hours we were waiting for release--for peace.
Benjamin was finally born a couple days later and the joy of finally having him born was mixed with so much raw emotion. In fact, I only stayed in the hospital one night because I could not handle being there as the emotions of losing my mom were too fresh. The wound too ripe. The joy of our new baby was being robbed from me. The midwife understood and the doctor released me, thankfully. Such a bittersweet time for me!
We came home to Andy's mom loving on us, but it was too short. She had to leave and return back to her life and it was like a wound ripped wide open in me that I did not even know was there! I love my mother-in-law so much that I don't think she will ever fully understand how much I appreciate her and how she loves my family.
I started to feel better.
And then our thrift store that we built from the ground up was completely destroyed in an awful storm. The roof ripped right off and with it--my heart. Someone on our staff said that he thought losing the store for me was like losing my firstborn child. As I reflected I realized there was some truth in that. Ouch.
In these situations and a few others there were times when I felt like there was no person to turn to. Of course, we have the LORD and I have a couple of good friends, but no one to hold me and let me cry. I needed a mom. I have learned who my true friends are and have learned again to rely on the LORD to hold me as I cry. I have learned that many on our staff are family to me and me to them and I love them dearly.
The funeral today is of a soldier who was such a committed prayer warrior for her family, for our corps and for me--a true friend. She told me things that I did not know about the spiritual life and, in her own special way, was a Godsend. I will miss combing her hair, helping her get dressed, fetching her cold tea, listening to old stories of the war and of life as a girl in England. I will miss our Friday afternoons spent in her small apartment as she was always ready to "go to battle" in her uniform. She was a dear, special lady and as I prepare for her memorial service today I now realize that I am rejoicing that a true friend has gone to be with Jesus.
No more death. No more sadness. Just release for peace.
