15 years without Libby Anne.
I'm sure she's still sneaking ice-cream for breakfast, playing her guitar, riding horses and eating lucky charms. Best of all she's with Jesus in whose presence is fullness of life and joy. Tomorrow marks 15 years that my sister Libby and my nephew Sam have gone to be with Jesus, their Heaven birthday as I call it.
I'm still here waiting on the other side.
It's still so bittersweet. I miss her so much and yet I know that I will see her again someday, and relatively speaking, it will be soon.
Death is not a natural part of life. It's a part of the curse. It's what Jesus came and lived a perfect life for and died in our place so that He could put death to death.
Death is not the final statement. It doesn't have the final say. It's merely a passageway to enter into the arms of our Savior. I don't mean to say that it's not painful and that it's not part of our worldly experience.
Right now, I have seen so many facing deaths of loved ones: parents, spouses, friends, children. The pain is very real. I'm asking God to comfort you in the loss of your loved ones.
I'm missing her laugh, her singing, her sighing, her gasping in surprise, delight or horror. I miss the way her nose would crinkle. Her beautiful blue eyes. And the way she'd stand with her hands on her hips. She was shorter and smaller than me but she loved to boss me around and tell me what's what.
I miss the gloss of her hair and the smell of Pantene Pro-V. I miss the way she'd laugh at me, or with me depending on the circumstance. I miss talking to her and asking her advice. I miss relating and sharing and confiding and crying together.
I miss our time teaching English in China and the way we used to scratch each other's backs as we went to sleep as little girls. I miss the graduations, the engagements and weddings we had so close together.
I remember her singing as I walked down the aisle to my husband Mike. I remember her pulling her hair up in pony tails. I remember Chick-fil-A sweet iced teas. Long talks about God and boys and Mom and Dad and Christopher. I remember standing next to her in worship, her arms extended in praise, her sweet voice in my ear.
I sit on my bed, my head covered in a cross of ashes from the Ash Wednesday service I attended. A reminder to repent of my sin and to be mindful of my mortality. Libby is that reminder to me. A reminder that we don't all live long lives. A reminder that life isn't fair. It doesn't always go the way we want it to. The reminder that we can be cheated and robbed of beautiful and amazing people.
But it's also a reminder that my Savior came. That He was more than enough. That He conquered death. In Him there is forgiveness for my sins. In Him there is hope and life. In Him, I will be reunited with my sister.
In the meantime, tell me, what's your favorite memory of Libby? What did you learn about her or from those who loved her? What's your favorite story of her? I'd love to hear. Sending big hugs and lots of love (and hershey kisses) to those who know and miss her.
All My Love,
Jennifer
I'm still here waiting on the other side.
It's still so bittersweet. I miss her so much and yet I know that I will see her again someday, and relatively speaking, it will be soon.
Death is not a natural part of life. It's a part of the curse. It's what Jesus came and lived a perfect life for and died in our place so that He could put death to death.
Death is not the final statement. It doesn't have the final say. It's merely a passageway to enter into the arms of our Savior. I don't mean to say that it's not painful and that it's not part of our worldly experience.
Right now, I have seen so many facing deaths of loved ones: parents, spouses, friends, children. The pain is very real. I'm asking God to comfort you in the loss of your loved ones.
I'm missing her laugh, her singing, her sighing, her gasping in surprise, delight or horror. I miss the way her nose would crinkle. Her beautiful blue eyes. And the way she'd stand with her hands on her hips. She was shorter and smaller than me but she loved to boss me around and tell me what's what.
I miss the gloss of her hair and the smell of Pantene Pro-V. I miss the way she'd laugh at me, or with me depending on the circumstance. I miss talking to her and asking her advice. I miss relating and sharing and confiding and crying together.
I miss our time teaching English in China and the way we used to scratch each other's backs as we went to sleep as little girls. I miss the graduations, the engagements and weddings we had so close together.
I remember her singing as I walked down the aisle to my husband Mike. I remember her pulling her hair up in pony tails. I remember Chick-fil-A sweet iced teas. Long talks about God and boys and Mom and Dad and Christopher. I remember standing next to her in worship, her arms extended in praise, her sweet voice in my ear.
I sit on my bed, my head covered in a cross of ashes from the Ash Wednesday service I attended. A reminder to repent of my sin and to be mindful of my mortality. Libby is that reminder to me. A reminder that we don't all live long lives. A reminder that life isn't fair. It doesn't always go the way we want it to. The reminder that we can be cheated and robbed of beautiful and amazing people.
But it's also a reminder that my Savior came. That He was more than enough. That He conquered death. In Him there is forgiveness for my sins. In Him there is hope and life. In Him, I will be reunited with my sister.
In the meantime, tell me, what's your favorite memory of Libby? What did you learn about her or from those who loved her? What's your favorite story of her? I'd love to hear. Sending big hugs and lots of love (and hershey kisses) to those who know and miss her.
All My Love,
Jennifer
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