Her back was mottled, and she could barely sit up. She was weak from her invasive cancer. I visited her on Easter Sunday. Perhaps it was God’s will that I didn’t have an elaborate Easter dinner with ham, rolls, pies, and house decor filled with decorative bunnies. Instead, I went to visit this dear friend I met by happenstance and her dear husband who always seemed to help me out. Pure. Unconditional. Love. Always kind and helpful to me.
I held her weak hand and said that I did not know where I stood on the hierarchy of the ladder to Jesus but that I always kept her in my prayers. In a whisper, she told me that God heard even the smallest of prayers. It was comforting but sad.
Until the end, she held strong in her faith as cancer invaded her breast, lungs, lymph nodes, bone, spine, and liver. I assisted her husband in changing the dressing surrounding her chest tube poking out of her. On this day, we drained 650 cc’s off of her lungs as it slowly trickled into the pleurovac.
She had such a vibrant life filled with love, family, and books, as she loved to read, and her deep love for her church family and her spirituality. I was amazed and perplexed by the sadness of it all, but I could feel the love of her husband and daughter. There was a peaceful aura of Godness in the air—not panic, but a calmness that filled the room.
I knew it was only a matter of time before God opened the skies and lifted this dear friend into His kingdom. She was only in her 60s, and we always wonder why? The Bible says we don’t know the hour of our death.
Anxiety and pain eased up as she lifted her eyes to the heavens and then peacefully closed them. With a slight smile on her face. A peaceful smile.
She had left this earth with a grieving, tearful husband and daughter, and we questioned why. But we know that her reward in heaven is what she lived for all her life. Rest peacefully, Rachel.