Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his faithful servants.
~ Psalm 116:15 NIV
After sharing with you, it seemed right to let you know I received word early this morning she died peacefully last night, her mother and brother by her side. Anguish and relief inhabit my heart, such paradox on the surface. It is only in deep places they coexist.
I wonder if it is because of my own mother's death when I was a little girl that I see death's mercy. Mama battled cancer in the early 70s when treatments were much more barbaric and pain managment was in its infancy; my father suffered a 14-month end-of-life 4 1/2 years ago, excruciating to witness. Dementia tangled his mind and feebled his body, and my siblings and I learned to care for him in a way I wish no child ever again would have to experience.
Death was a mercy to my parents.
Under the weight of great loss I tenderly offer:
death is mercy for Sara.
At the funeral of a friend's father years ago, my pastor offered beautiful words of encouragment, kind companion when I've since walked through the valley of death's shadow—
"Even if [he] had the choice to come back fully healthy,
to be with the people he loved more than anyone in the world,
he'd choose not to leave the presence of God."
At another funeral, more balm for the grieving–
".
When everything else is gone,
you still have that to give.”
* * * * * *
Sara's legacy is a gift of eternal love and life well lived until the end. For her, home wasn't a place bound by geography or construction, it was in the hearts of those she loves and who love her…her family, her friends and her King.
Left to my own construction, Sara's life would've been much different; God would have healed her body. She would still tell His story of glory and grace, but from the perspective of miracle, not suffering.
But then I can't help but think about how in dying she taught others how to live, truly live! She planted seeds of joy in thousands of hearts–thousands!–and by example demonstrated what that looks like when life is hard, when it hurts.
Confined to her apartment for years, and more recently from her bed, Sara mined the precious and priceless from Ancient Words. She testified to God's goodness in spite of her illness, she praised His faithfulness as He allowed her to see how His best was better than her best.
Her life became a vessel of God's truth, resulting in the transformation of others; not because of her but because of Christ–His power–in her, working through her!
Talk about joy…!
* * * * * * *
It is an odd thing to explain, this grieving a friend I've never met. I admitted that to Jessica recently–on the inside the tears flow freely but on the outside I don't know how to share. When I've begun to try, my family and friends don't know quite what to say, so I say little and let the storm run its course on the inside.
But I've got this space and it's often where I process "out loud."
Mainly I just wanted to share how others have encouraged me at these saddest of times…and to offer you the Great Hope that enabled Sara to choose joy in life and in death.
Sara, whose name means princess….
Sara, who lived the truth of "… to live is Christ and to die is gain"…
Sara, who was faithful with what she had been given…
Title quote by Emily Dickinson.
It is that empty place that they leave where our grief find us.
Pamela, I guess it's that "nature abhors a vacuum" thing. I'm celebrating Sara's freedom from a body that rebelled against her, but I sure will miss her writing and encouragement.
Thank you for these lovely words, friend. I think that they will help many. I’m forwarding it to a friend who recently lost her son.
xoxo
Your words were so authentic and true. I especially could relate to experiences like the one you mentioned: “left to my own construction, Sara’s life would’ve been much different; God would have healed her body. She would still tell His story of glory and grace, but from the perspective of miracle, not suffering.” What a testiment it is, living in and through His plan…whatever that looks like.
Sara surely blessed so many.
Robin, it’s beautiful. Thank you for this. You are a blessing. God bless and keep you and all of yours.
It is hard to let go, it is hard to miss someone we cared for, but it is in their freedom we can truly know they are healed.
She lived and died for HIS GLORY so others would remember HIS LOVE.
me too… me too – so much of what you have said I can totally relate to. Missing Sara, but rejoicing that she is finally free and healthy
I completely understand mourning a friend whom I’ve never met when it comes to Sara. I learned about her for the first time a few days ago yet I feel like I’ve known her. When I read that she died, I was sad but then decided to chose the joy that comes from knowing she is with her God now.
Love doesn’t die… isn’t that the beautiful truth. Thanks for sharing your heart Robin. Wonderful post. xo
Perhaps by knowing her you are now even more equipped to carry on her vision for scattering joy. You’ve certainly done a lovely job, thus far.
Praying you are blessed in this season, in the valley of the shadow…
Sigh…
Cancer just this week touched my family again. It’s all so familiar yet so uniquely terrifying. It’s a journey I wish none of us ever had to take. Maybe someday.
May Sara’s memory always be a blessing.