It is early January 2026, and I’m getting ready to attend a Celebration of Life for a dear friend.
How can my friend be gone? How did cancer take her when she was so vibrant, and so diligent about her health? I’m so concerned for her daughter – she is only 25 years old and now needs to navigate life without her mother.
My friend was a true example of what a person, and a friend, should be. She was loving, kind, gracious, generous, authentic. A bright light in this world. I am blessed beyond measure to have been considered her friend.
We met at ladies Bible study. We shared a love for God and a desire to seek God’s guidance with respect to how we parented our children. We shared some ups and downs. Mostly I feel like she picked me up and dusted me off and helped me to keep going. When my husband died in a car accident, I was 7 months pregnant with my third child. We had bought a new (to us) house and were scheduled to move 4 months after what would become the accident. Somehow the move to the new house still happened.
After my husband’s funeral was over and I was moved into the new house, everyone went back to their lives. I was alone in my new house with my newborn, my 2 year old and my 5 year old and the whole world felt like it was crashing down on me. My friend called and asked me what the hardest thing was. Evenings, I said. The baby was fussy, I was exhausted and still had to get supper cleaned up and the other boys to bed.
My friend, who didn’t even go to my church, found a way to contact people at the church and ask them if they would be willing to come to my house for an evening, between 7 pm and 9 pm, to help with….whatever that particular day had handed out. People came. Every night for many months. Sometimes they bounced the baby while I put the other boys to bed. Sometimes they washed dishes. Sometimes they folded laundry. Sometimes they vacuumed the carpet. Sometimes they played with the 5 year old.
I don’t know how I would have made it through that first year without my friend, her thoughtfulness, her kindness, her willingness to contact people and ask them to help me. And then of course there were all the people who came and helped me. Down and dirty in my giant, unspeakable mess.
Someday I hope to be the kind of person, and friend, that my friend was. I will miss her. Her smile, her laugh, her vibrant love for life, and for God. And for her daughter.
What good can come from this devastating loss? The Bible tells us that God can use all things for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). In this moment that doesn’t feel true. It is times like this where I will need to do what Proverbs 3:5 tells me to do…to trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding.
It is now the next day. The celebration of life is over, the venue was standing room only. My friend impacted a lot of people. Tomorrow is Monday. Everyone will go back to their lives. My friend’s daughter will need to learn how to live without her mother. As Jeremy Camp wrote so eloquently in his song “I Still Believe”, “in brokenness I can see that this was your will for me, help me to know that you are near. I still believe in your faithfulness, I still believe in your truth, I still believe in your holy word. Even when I don’t see, I still believe.” This is my prayer for my friend’s daughter, that even though she doesn’t see, she will still believe that God is good and know that he is near.
Dear friend, “now you live on in the words of a song, you’re a melody”, from CREED’s song “Stand Here with Me”.
