Another Goodbye...

I walked through the house, drinking in the sight of each room, unsure of when or if my eyes would settle on her house again. I always loved the way her house was adorned with touches of her, paintings she made, fabric draped across windows, fabric she chose for it's color and texture. Fabric she sewed with her hands. I looked at her pictures telling the tale of a life well-lived and a woman well-loved, who loved well.

I settled in the chair beside her bed, the room filled with amber light bouncing off the sage green walls, listening to the rhythm of her breathing her waning breaths and the whispered prayers of the women surrounding her. I saw in her daughter's eyes a reflection...familiar. Oh...how I wished they weren't being asked to walk this path. I looked at the scripture scrawled across her beloved chalkboard and my eyes wandered to the kitchen table where we shared our revelations, our tears, our prayers, and most of all our unbridled laughter. I ran my hand across the table with the wild horses painted on it...the table she made with her hands, admiring the beauty of her work. Absently, I brushed the crumbs from the table onto a plate. Dinah always hated crumbs on her table.

I remembered our conversation after my mom passed.  I was struck by how much the touches of a woman and her personality makes up a home...how valuable a mother is to the life of her family. Dinah had talked then of her own mom's passing in those days when my wounds were still fresh, as I cried with the ache of a daughter who had no idea such missing could exist. She knew about the missing. She missed her own mother still...her mother, the one who always had painted finger nails and called me, "the girl who laughs".

Listening to her anguish, an Ecclesiastes moment threatened to punctured my thoughts, "What is the point?" The answer lies in the look in her husband's eyes when someone shares how his beloved has touched their lives. The answer lies in her beautiful blond daughters who love Jesus and are filled with the grace and grit she leaves behind. The answer lies in the legacy of photographs, pristine English riding competitions, and her dog Sky's blue eyes wondering. The answer lies in the face of her precious grandson. It lays in the beauty of my marriage restored and flourishing, and countless others she prayed for...healed and restored. It lays in those who proclaim the name of Jesus because she prayed and boldly shared the truth with them.

As I lay awake in the night watches praying my pleading prayers...the prayers that hurt too much to fully utter... I think of all the night watches she lay awake on my behalf...on behalf of my kids, my mother, my husband, her family, her friends, the prisoners she ministered to....everyone she loved.

I read some of her favorite quotes hanging in the kitchen. One was a reminder never to get too hungry, tired, lonely, or angry. Advice she gave me early on in my marriage, along with a myriad of other things. Another was "Most people die with the music still inside of them." I smiled, looking around at her eclectic, colorful house that so reflected her eclectic, colorful, snarky sweet personality. Not Dinah. She held nothing back...not her opinions, her wisdom, her passionate love for Jesus and His word, and most of all her love. The symphony of her life was poured into the lives around her. Her symphony plays on in the lives of everyone who loved her.

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I started writing this early this morning...reflecting on saying good-bye to my friend Dinah, whose time was short as I began this post. She went home to heaven this afternoon. She is free from cancer and every other earthly discomfort and sorrow. I will see her again, but for now, I will miss my dear friend. Please pray for her family and those who loved her.

Psalm 116:15

Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his faithful servants.