I knew the woman that lay there was no longer my aunt. I knew she was free to rejoice with her Savior and to see all those she had loved on earth and died in Christ. Her husband—parents—my mother—grandparents—the names were endless, and now she was free of the constraints of her weakened little body. Yet this is how I had loved and known her—my father’s sweet sister.
My father, in his own little world that had already forgotten this loss, was struggling with his own illness far away from this moment. I gazed on that face which was so like his, and on her hands with his long fingers. Fingers that had played over and over the hymns she loved—fingers that had stroked her children’s faces, and fingers which had corrected when necessary. My father was her only sibling, and she had loved and taken care of him through years of childhood the best way a big sister could.
I will see my father this afternoon. I will look upon the likeness of my aunt’s face. I will not know what I can say or do until I discover where he lives in his mind. I will go knowing it is well with her soul and it is well with His. These days are so hard, yet so full. Emptied I can be filled with His joy and peace. Emptied of self, I am free to walk in His Spirit and in whatever He requires of me.
Death is but a moment when we pass from earthly constraint to heavenly freedom. One day my father, as my mother and my aunt have done, will pass from this earthly moment to glory with the Lord. One day I shall pass, too, and I pray my legacy is His message of love and forgiveness. I’m only a tiny piece of His great story—a small fleck in His magnificent purpose.
This morning my young friend, Rachel, goes forth with His message to South Korea. Her life is ready to live its purpose. Others will always go forth with His message. “I have loved you with an everlasting love”, the Lord implores. “I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” (Jeremiah 33:1 NIV). Everlasting. He draws us. His story never ends.
© 2017 Lynn Lacher