On Labor Day weekend two years ago I called my friend Joan to chat. We had been friends since 1995, when I began serving with her on our church’s Women’s Ministry team. Her warmth, creativity, and love for Jesus and her friends drew me. Our friendship was strong, even though she was 20 years older than I.
She had been struggling with back pain for months and had gone to the doctor for tests to find the source of the pain. The day I called, she had learned of her cancer diagnosis. The doctor told her that she could come back to the clinic for more tests, or she could call Hospice.
Joan choose Hospice. I saw her just days after Hospice came. She looked radiant and told me, “I’m the happiest dying woman you will ever meet!” Each time I saw her after that, or whenever we spoke on the phone, she affirmed that sentiment and told me that she felt the presence of the Lord with her and such sweet peace. She had very little pain. Her daughter and son-in-law were with her for the last months of her life, along with many caregivers, even someone who came by to wash her hair. She always looked beautiful and greeted me warmly when I stopped by to see her.
On December 10, 2018, the “happiest dying woman” I ever met flew to Jesus. (You can read more about Joan here.)
Just days ago I attended a memorial service for my 92-year-old friend Agnes, a member of the critique group I was part of. Agnes was a prolific author and a spot-on copy editor. I always knew my writing would be enhanced by Agnes’ critique.
Beautiful, elegant Agnes wrote a book about Heaven which our group had the privilege of critiquing. She called it Heaven, Our Glorious Home: Amazing Answers to Our Questions. I sensed that this book held special meaning to her and that some of her own concerns found answers as she wrote.
About a month ago Agnes fell and broke her leg. She experienced complications and moved in with her son’s family, where she was able to rest peacefully under the care of her family and Hospice. I am told that she smiled even in her sleep. When she was awake, her son read to her from her book about Heaven.
We all know stories where death was not poignant like it was for Joan and Agnes. The process of dying can be swift and unexpected, long and brutal, or anywhere in between. But when our day comes, we know that the reward for those who have put their trust in Jesus Christ is life everlasting in the presence of the God we love. All the pain and struggle of this life will be over.
Until that day comes we live in the present, enduring life’s trials but keeping focused on our future home. One day…but not yet, our ultimate transition will be complete, and we will be Home forever. This is our glorious hope.
Hold on a little while longer, friend. Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power (Eph 6:10). God’s blessings on you until you see him face to face.
Ginger
Heaven’s Shadow
I live in Heaven’s shadow,
waiting, wondering when.
My lungs long for ethereal air—
to inhale immortality,
to exhale unrestrained song.
Oh, to see the radiant light,
revealing unutterable glory,
to feast on the fruit of the ever-bearing tree,
to drink life itself from God’s own river.
Suddenly—some day—
my soul shall shed its skin
and soar to my eternal home.
But for now, I live in Heaven’s shadow,
waiting, wondering when.
Ginger Kauffman
1999
A beautiful post, Ginger. Thank you for sharing some of these amazing people’s lives with us.
Thank you, Julie. They modeled how faith in Christ can help us through the hardest things in life.
I too had a friend who was one of the happiest dying people I’ve known. And so prepared. She gifted me her car before she died and I helped her sort through things she wanted to give to those she loved. Being with her in those last days was such a blessing. Dear Ursula; I miss her a lot.
And I am sure it was a tremendous blessing to Ursula as well, Maria. What a marvelous friend you had in one another.
Beautiful people, beautiful poem. Thanks, Ginger!
Thank you, Joan. I appreciate your encouragement.