It’s hard for me to share this story because I’m not ready to use my friend’s name in the past tense.
She was a wonderful friend. She is a wonderful friend. And she passed away very quickly after a severe diagnosis. I think I’m still in disbelief because she was such a bright light in this world, in my world, that nothing could extinguish all that goodness, joy, love, spunk, faithfulness and unending hope.
I still want to call her and give her updates. We were in the middle of planning another trip together. We were in the middle of doing ministry work together. My life was finally taking a good turn after she’d prayed me through a decade of heartbreaks. She still had grandbabies being born and adventures she wanted to go on and so much wisdom she wanted to share with all of us.
And then right in the middle of all of that life, suddenly an illness slammed the brakes on everything, and conversations were filled with words like “cancer” and “tumors” and “treatments” and “prayers for a miracle.”
I miss my friend Lisa so much. I can’t talk about her without crying. And as I process my grief, I’ve encountered more hard questions I have for God:
Why her?
Why this special person who brought such good into every life she touched?
She honored You, God, with her whole heart, and she lived out Your love in such beautiful ways. How could any of this be part of a good plan?
My wrestling is compounded by the unfairness of her life ending while others who cause such destruction and evil are physically healthy and free to keep hurting people. I know God is patient, wanting everyone to repent and turn from their sin. And I believe His patience with all of us is part of His goodness.
But it hurts so much that my friend was taken.
I’ve made peace with the fact that I don’t understand and won’t get answers to all my questions. But I still cry and wrestle with what seems so unfair to me.
Can you relate?
The only way I’m making peace with this right now is to go back and ask myself, What is true about the heart of God? What I believe about God’s true nature will affect how I process the hard things that happen in life.
I don’t understand why my friend Lisa was taken, but here’s what I do know: She loved God and was confident in God’s love for her. For Lisa, trusting God was never about what she was facing — her confidence was in the consistent faithfulness He displayed throughout her life.
Just the other day, I turned to 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, which says, “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (NIV).
Lisa didn’t want this diagnosis. She didn’t want to suffer. She was grieving, and those of us who love her were as well. But none of us were grieving as people who had no hope. To see how Lisa managed her grief and hope was beautiful. She was able to acknowledge that her situation stunk, but she was still open to the joys of life.
Honestly, in my mind, being open to the joys of life even during hardships feels like a beautiful definition of “hope.” If we believe God loves us so much that He gave His only Son to die for us, why would His love stop on the threshold of devastating life circumstances and things that don’t make sense to us? His love doesn’t stop there. So our hope shouldn’t stop there.
My prayer is that the more I believe in the absolute love God has for me, for Lisa and for all of us … the more I can trust Him. I believe the same for you, too, friend.
Lord Jesus, I know no matter what I face, hope is possible. Help me hold together both sorrow and joy … grief and celebration … pain and victory … as I cling to You to carry me through this season. I trust You, God. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
