It is so hard for us to see the good when we are in the middle of the yuck and muck we sometimes face in life. But with time and spiritual maturity (I am not there yet, as I am a long work in progress), we can learn to embrace the hard times and look for the good.
When my friend Lauren died last summer, it wrecked me. I was absolutely devastated. When her precious mom called me to tell me the news, I was standing outside and had to grab the chair nearby to prevent myself from falling. It was as though my knees buckled and my legs had been knocked out from under me. I felt like I had been punched in the gut and my airway had been squeezed to prevent me from breathing. It was impossible to grasp, much less believe, my Lauren was gone. She was only 36 years old. As I tried to form my words, I asked Mrs. Lisa, “What happened?”
“Lauren slipped into a diabetic coma and died in her sleep.” she told me.
My sweet Lauren. Just 36 years old. More like 36 years young.
Terry walked outside and found me weeping. Lauren was such a precious gift in my life, and she was a mentor and like a big sister to Michala. How could I see anything good … anything good at all coming from her death? All I knew to do was pray for Lauren’s precious family and friends. Little did I know through Lauren’s death, new friends for life would be made.
Over the years, Lauren would text pictures to me of her godson, Declan. All I knew about Declan was he lived in Florida while Lauren was in Los Angeles. (Lauren is from Sarasota, and met Declan’s mom, her college roommate, Katie, at FSU). She would tell me, “Look how cute Declan is,” or, “I got to see my godson today” and would attach a picture. Lauren was so thrilled and so proud to be a godmother.
Fast forward to Lauren’s celebration of life ceremony. It was held at a beach pavilion on Siesta Key Beach. Terry, Michala and I all went and arrived a little early since I was one of the speakers and I did not know if they would need any help. Lauren’s childhood friend, Jen, and some other precious girls were putting together a beautiful setup; one of course, to make our beautiful Lauren proud. One of the girls was putting some flowers in a vase and I approached her and asked, “Do you know who Declan’s mom is? I would love to meet her.”
She removed her sunglasses, stared at me (in almost disbelief) and said, “That would be me! I’m Declan’s mom. I’m Katie.” I had chills running up and down my body. Of all the people already gathered there; I had absolutely no idea who Declan’s mom was, because Lauren always sent pictures of Declan to me. We introduced ourselves and embraced. We immediately connected, mainly because of our mutual love for Lauren, but I just knew I loved Katie the moment I met her. As the day went on and we listened to one another speak, I knew deep down Katie and I would become friends.
We exchanged information and then it all began. “Wait. You’re from Nashville?” Katie asked me. The rest, as they say, is history. As we have grieved Lauren’s death together, we will often reach out to the other when we would normally reach out to Lauren. When Terry and I had a semi-formal event not too long ago, I texted Katie for outfit preferences. I have shared this before, but Lauren was always my fashion go-to expert. Lauren was a costume designer in Los Angeles, and I can barely find my way into a dressing room. I am certain my fashion questions provided comic relief for our sweet Lauren over the years. Anyway, Terry and I were supposed to go on a cruise (we postponed it due to the coronavirus outbreak) and we would have several formal nights. So I again reached out to Katie for dress and purse suggestions.
Although Katie is also from Nashville, we only recently learned we grew up five miles from one another. Can you believe this? As we continue to peel back the layers, we find so many similarities and connections drawing us closer to one another. Just last week I told her, “I can imagine Lauren doing a jig over this!” (Our findings of growing up barely miles from the other) I told Katie, “I feel like I have gained a little sister!”
“Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that both calamities and good things come?” - Lamentations 3:38 (NIV)
There is always going to be a portion of our hearts missing when one of our loved ones dies. But I know, without fail, God shows up through our grief. In my love for and friendship with Katie, I see God’s hand in bringing her into my life.
Both calamities and good things come. We still see the goodness of God through our heartaches and tragedies.
My prayer for you today is you will open your eyes to see God’s goodness in the midst of your heartaches.
Every single day I see the number of my neighbors in Heaven growing, exponentially. But then again, once we are all reunited with Papa, will there even be strangers in Heaven? I just do not think there will be.