The End is the Beginning

Today, for a few moments, I watched a woman I admire greatly struggle with breathing as she slumbered under her covers, so small and so insignificant that she almost disappeared into the bed linens. Cancer has spread throughout her body and unless a miracle occurs she will go home to her Father's house. I have no fears of her reception, I can hear the angel choir now singing as they celebrate the homecoming of another beloved child. And as I sit with tears running down my face, it is not anger that I feel or even immense sadness, though certainly those will come. It's the feeling of the inescapable separation that is tugging at my heart tonight.

She has lived a good life and I am but one of many pebbles on her beach. She has loved faithfully God's people. She has spoken kind truths and blunt truths to me over the years. She has seen light in places that were awfully dark and lived in the presence of death with more grace and peace than anyone I have ever known. She cared for the elderly and infirm of our church community by organizing monthly visitors and a mail ministry. I can't think of one program she has not supported and I can't think of a time I went to her in a pinch that she didn't come through for me or find a way for someone else to do so. She was one of the first people who knew I was expecting my third child, she was one of the first people who knew that the early blood work indicated problems and she prayed for the two of us faithfully without telling a soul until I was ready. She was present with me in the delivery room by phone and she is one of his godparents. She has served this role faithfully and lovingly through the years. The ripples of her service go on and on and on.

I can rejoice in her graduation. I know she will be welcomed with open arms. I know that somehow God will care for her husband, her children and grandchildren in the days ahead. I am confident that the fruit of her faithful service will continue on and on effecting many, including those who will never know her. She is a vehicle God used to touch so many, she will continue to be as those she touched, touch others. She has not wasted her life, her gifts and her talents, she used them for God's glory and she has returned many a hundred fold.

Still, while the end is a beginning, it is the finality of the end that is looming monstrously. How do you say it all, ask it all, hear it all? How do you say, until we meet again knowing it wont be in any manner I understand? How do you look long enough to sear the memory that will last?

The weird thing is that even as I write this I know strength will be given to support others even though I could not be strong enough to support myself. In years to come memories that are now vague smudges will be crystal clear and somehow I am sure she will live on in me as I live from the blessings I received through the years. Me and many other pebbles just like me.

I am not grieving as one without hope, but I am grieving. If you must carry her home, my Father, please do so gently. She needs the walk home to be easy. And even in this, I know You are enough.