One of my spiritual mentors said good-bye this morning, and just turned and stepped through the doorway between worlds, between breaths, and there she was– waking up to the Light that will not fade and the solid Reality of God’s glory. It was peaceful and quiet, the way we were hoping it would be. It’s hard to put into words how happy I am for her accomplishment of finishing her race run well, and how I am more than a little envious, and how thankful for what she taught me… all mixed in with sadness for those who remain and resignation for the distance yet to run of our own.

She always treated me like a daughter: taught me to bake bread and to make pies, traded quilting patterns and good mysteries, shared her son, told me stories of when she was young, and loved my children. She introduced me to her own spiritual mentors: Andrew Murray, the Quaker Bible teacher Hannah Whitall Smith, Elizabeth Elliot. Loaned me those classic books when I was barely out of my teen years, and I read them and later bought them for myself because I wanted to keep them close. Dog-eared and worn, they still sit on my bookshelves in the study, on my nightstand, and these days I am loaning them out to young women I know who are hungry for more of the Holy Spirit’s work in their lives.

She and I were as different as night and day, really. She was the same age as my grandmothers, born in another era. She loved people and talking and music and dancing– an extrovert if ever there was one. She didn’t like to read a lot of instructions or have too many rules because it took way too much time and attention. She was all about fun and trying out new things for yourself. But in the important things we found a connection, and for over thirty years she influenced my growing as an adult and the way I run this race of faith.

I hope I can love and encourage younger women the way she did, help them grow up to resemble their Father more and more. I pray I can run as faithfully and joyfully as she did, and finish well. Through that doorway (just right there, if we had eyes to see it) there is a “Welcome Home” party going on, and she is in the middle of it, right where she belongs. I am so glad.

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” Psalm 116:15