When I think of you, I remember a younger me.
I remember squeezing into Marie's Toyota Paseo, so many different times. Mostly, I remember there was enough room for everyone as we drove home; but occasionally, we packed in like sardines—like the time we kidnapped Molly for her birthday. I think you were on crutches and got to sit up front because of your injured leg. We went back to Marie’s place, the one with the breakfast nook, for dinner. Afterwards, I remember us cheering with Deborah during Return from Snowy River, "Go Jim go!" We cheered for the dashing hero on his black stallion.
There were other movies too, like The Shawshank Redemption and The Great Escape, during sleepovers. There were also many musicals and plays at Walnut and Finneytown. On our way to watch Ellen in Godspell, I remember talking about whether the note I received from Will during study hall meant anything; in it he had drawn my profile and written about "the North girl."
What fun times those were!
I went looking for a particular photo of our small group
last week. I never found it. But Molly did!
I found a photo from Resident Camp, instead. I remember eating with your campers while I served on Girls Crew. You were such a wonderful counselor.
I found a photo from Resident Camp, instead. I remember eating with your campers while I served on Girls Crew. You were such a wonderful counselor.
I remember having gym class together too. I was so relieved to know someone else that
first day. I think it must have been
with Mr. Christoph, because I remember being on mats tumbling and talking with
you, Lindsay, and Tiphanie. If I am
remembering correctly, I think we spent the beginning of the semester lamenting
our lack of volleyball skills. Very
few of us did well on the bumping and setting tests.
You always seemed so comfortable with who you were. I think that is pretty rare in a middle
school or high school student. You made me feel like I could be me around
you, the me that was still trying to figure out who I really was—even if
that meant you were witness to ridiculous dance choreography in the bathroom
just down the hall from the lunchroom.
We laughed about it, but I never felt foolish for sharing that piece of
me with you. (Though, now, I would like to groan that I ever thought that was
remotely cool. Oh well!)
That was a precious gift you gave me then.
I did not know I could really live authentically until years later. But years later, I do know that is the best
way to really live, even if it sometimes feels very risky. If we are never fully known, we can never be
fully loved. You were known and loved, friend.
It seems such a long time since those days.
Life seldom brought us together since then. (Those few moments
when it did were sweet). From afar, I loved watching your adventures. You seemed to have such a “seize the day” way
of living. It took you all over the
world. You found so many kindred spirits,
touched so many lives. I know we are all
richer for knowing you. I am.
Now, you are gone.
(You,
who were always so full of life and laughter and making things beautiful—can it
really be?)
It reminds me that this world is broken and of my longing for home. It makes me
long for the day when all will be made right.
In that place, in the presence of Jesus, you are whole again. Sickness does not have the last word, neither
does death. For that, I am so very
thankful.
I remember Marie sharing this passage from 1 Peter
about character with me.
“Wives, in the same way submit
yourselves to your own husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the
word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when
they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your
beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and
the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it
should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet
spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the
holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to adorn themselves. They
submitted themselves to their own husbands, like Sarah,
who obeyed Abraham and called him her lord. You are her daughters if you do
what is right and do not give way to fear.”
– 1 Peter 3:3-6
I think it is especially the last line that
makes me think of it now.
“You
are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear.”
What a courageous woman you were, my
friend. You faced months of treatment, friends and family beside you, near and far, praying. You did not
give way to fear.
I
want to live like that too!
These were God’s words to Joshua and the
people of Israel as they entered the Promised Land:
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and
courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you
wherever you go.” – Joshua 1:9
The road ahead of
Israel was full of promise in the midst of difficulty. In the midst of all of this, God told them not to fear, he
would be right there. He would not leave
of forsake them. What words of hope! What words of comfort!
God goes with us wherever we go.
God goes with us wherever we go.
You must have taken hold of God’s promises in the midst
of such difficulty.
I believe that our names tell us something about who we
are.
Your namesake was loyal, determined, strong and brave—like
you. She, too, was no stranger to
difficulty.
You know what? Her story doesn’t end in death, it ends in
life. It ends with a redeemer.
Because of all this,
it is well.
***
Grace and peace be
ours in abundance as we trust in the promises of God. May we cling to Jesus as our sure hope in the
face of sin and guilt and death. May we trust that
His resurrection life will right all the wrongs and make all things new. Because of this we can say it is well.
Jessica