Today I’m not only saying goodbye to the most selfless and compassionate woman and grandmother I
know. I am saying goodbye to my best friend. And I’ll be honest. I’m struggling.
I find myself feeling the strangest mix of emotions. I will never be able to put the depths
of my grief into words. So I won’t try. Instead I would like to tell you about the joy and peace I now have.
joy comes with the reassurance that you are no longer confused and suffering. It comes from knowing that you are finally with Grandpa and your boys. My joy comes from imagining you meeting Jesus for the first time, knowing that at this very moment you are
probably worshiping at his His feet, and will be for all of eternity.
Peace in death is sometimes a mere
illusion. But the peace we’ve been given is one that I don’t and never will take lightly. It is the peace that comes from knowing a loved one has made it into heaven. But is it really enough for us to
believe, yet not put in the work as shepherds? I quite honestly wouldn’t know. Because the example you and Grandpa set in all
of your decades of ministry taught me that every one of us are God’s children in need of saving.
Countless souls were brought to Christ not necessarily because of what was said, but because of how you lived.
Thank you for raising your children to know and love God. There isn’t
one grandchild or great-grandchild who didn’t benefit from the example you set for our parents in your home.
You exemplified what it means to be a Wife of Nobel Character. Thank you for showing me that a woman can be silent, yet heard; meek, yet courageous; resigned, yet determined; unwavering, yet compassionate. For all of the struggles this world
held for you, I never once saw your faith waiver.
You left us so quickly. There was no goodbye. So I asked myself what I thought you would
say to your family and loved ones if you were standing here one last time.
The answer actually came quite easily because you and I spoke of it often. I know the prayer in your heart for each of us was that we experience our own personal
relationship with Jesus. You knew true fulfillment. The one that comes when we find His purpose for our lives and live it. You would say that the narrow road is the harder one, but we will never regret taking it. You would say that if we don’t know Jesus, get to know him. If we don’t know His will for our lives,
ask. You would lovingly, yet firmly remind us that you
expect to see each and every one of us again when our time comes.
I take an immense amount of comfort in knowing that this isn’t really and truly goodbye. But until we meet again know that your life meant more to us than you could possibly imagine. You were a good and faithful servant. Now it’s
your turn to celebrate and share in our Heavenly Father’s happiness.
All my love,