Exodus 14:14 “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
We became friends because we shared a love for literacy (and Mexican food, and well just overall food in general really). I was two years ahead of her in high school and, even after we graduated, I would run into her every now and again. We would talk about teaching or getting our Master’s degrees ( I ended up going through the same program as her at Longwood) or talk about our kids (my spunky boys and her spunky girls). We eventually ended up working together (she got me a job at her elementary school and then we both went off to a new adventure-co department chairs-teaching English at a middle school. We were excited. And nervous. And excited.
Our excitement faded fast. It ended up being a year filled with grief for us both. Lindsey lost her precious brother in law. I lost my dad. We struggled. We cried. We leaned on each other. Through our tragedies we became sisters. We became family.
I watched Lindsey suffer and I watched her pray. I watched her lean on Jesus in her darkest times. I watched her pick herself up with a deep rooted strength that could only come from above.
Her faith fascinated me. It shook me, intrigued me, pushed me. Her faith helped me to cope with my own grief.
Her faith also showed me what a relationship with Christ was really supposed to look like. She was friends with Jesus. I didn’t know anything about that. I wanted to be friends with Him too.
By God’s grace we ended up at the same church. Here, we got to experience a new level of our friendship. One where we worshiped together, prayed together, and served together. We spend every other Sunday together in the nursery, catching up and loving on our church babies. (And I annoy her with my singing)
A few years ago, Lindsey and her husband became foster parents. It was a difficult decision. Made with a whole lot of prayer and a whole lot of faith. And it has not been easy. It has been an experience that has made her question God’s purpose and God’s timing more than once. I have seen her breathless, anxious, and completely terrified. I have seen her tired. And stressed. And completely at her wit’s end.
I have seen her stare into the unknown with a fear that I can’t even comprehend.
But I have also seen my best friend love.
She has loved more than she ever thought was possible. I have seen her give more of herself than she ever thought she could offer.
This week, my sister once again looks into the unknown and she will place her fears at the Lord’s feet. He will hold her close and love her just as she has loved her own babies.
She will stand again in that deep rooted faith, surrounded by that deep seeded love. She will take the Lord’s hand and let Him guide her through the storm. She will take a deep breath. She will be still.
And she will be ready.