Remembering A Dear Friend

As many of you know our beloved Lydia died this past Sunday morning.   It was so fitting that she left her earthly body on a Sunday before church.  Sunday was by far her favorite day of the week.  She would look expectantly at me every week and ask, "can I go to church?  Will someone come get me?"  My answer was always the same, "of course you can.  We will always come and get you!"  That "we" is what Lydia lived for.  That and her love of God.  Her life was intertwined with the community that she called her church.  There was never a Sunday, until the very end, when she didn't make it her first priority to be with her community.  For her, being community was a vital part of the meaning of life.  She came to Journey to be a blessing, to worship God, and to give and receive love from others.  Community was her grounding place, her place to be and to reveal God as she understood Him.  

Her last few weeks of life she couldn't attend church.  Her heart was heavy on those Sundays.  I knew her earthly time was coming to an end on the day she said to me, "No, I cannot make it to church this week."  I said with tears in my eyes, "ok, maybe next week."  She replied, "no, I don't think so."  It was her way of letting go of the one thing, other than God, that she lived for.  Her comfort, as always, was God- strong, steadfast to the end.  She knew that He would care for her community.  He is the rock that holds us together.  And that was enough for her.   "Be good to each other" was her instruction to all who would listen.  "Love others," "forgive them," often on her lips.  She lived out and understood when Jesus said,  “Love each other, as I have loved you."  She wasn't perfect but she lived and died with this community in her heart.  So, for me, it seemed fitting that she left her earthly body on a Sunday before service so that perhaps her spirit could worship with us at 11am.   

Reflect this week:
How important is community to me?

                                                                                                                                By Babs May-Clark