With God, nothing is wasted.
The scriptures tell us that God is working everything together for the good of those that love him.
The impossibility of him being timeless and without measure is one of my favorite attributes of God and one of the things that makes him so easy to worship. He is big and he is wide and he is deep and his character is so far beyond what any of us can actually understand.
His character is – beyond.
God continues to surprise me and delight me in preparation for the race. Sometimes it’s in the little things like someone encouraging me on a day when I’ve felt held down by the enemy’s schemes to derail my heart. Sometimes it’s in the big things, like a $2,500 check nestled into little girl’s stationary on a Wednesday.
And today, on September 14th, I am delighted at all levels by a detail he has weaved into this story so beautifully and so personally.
We lost my sister, Courtney, four years ago today. We lost her both suddenly and unsurprisingly. She left earth and a cruel reality that had poisoned her ability to hope and dream and like any other disease claims its victims sometimes, bipolar claimed my sister.
And we miss her, because she was part of us. Because there were things we needed to say and moments we needed to have and shared smiles we wanted to experience and big life events we thought we would share.
We miss her. We miss what could have been. We miss the idealism of a healthy sister, like the kind hand-in-hand with you on a Hallmark card not the kind you visit in hospitals scared of what she would do next.
We miss her. But we don’t sit in that.
Courtney believed in Jesus, gave her life to him and loved him. Period. Her faith kept her on earth for as long as she was supposed to be. And now she is with Him.
Praise God, she is with Jesus.
So we don’t sit in grief, but we delight in knowing our sister is living at levels she never could live on earth. She is filled with joy and peace and all the promises of heaven. She is away for now, but because we, too have put our faith in Jesus, we will see her again.
A couple of months before she died, I had a dream that stuck with me. I was trapped in a house with locked doors. The house was beautiful and nice and new but it was grayscale and I wanted to leave. Outside of the window, I saw rolling green hills and a big bright light off in the distance. It was warm and calm and nice and I wanted to go outside and see it. But I couldn’t. As I looked deeper into the landscape, I saw that my family was walking in the direction of the light. Mom. Dad. Courtney. Shannon. Heather. So I frantically reached for the door knobs trying to get out of the house. But I couldn’t. Suddenly, Courtney comes to the door, opens it and says “Come with us.” And I did.
When I woke up from the dream, I was confused because in my 2015 reality, Courtney and I were not close and of all the sisters that I would have wanted to come and get me, she would be last in line. In my 2015 reality, I didn’t really believe in God, and I didn’t have any reason to walk through any kind of door Courtney would open.
Two months later, at midnight, we answered the door for the search team who had the worst news I’ve ever heard and one hour later I was on my knees asking if God was real and if he had my sister. I asked God to show up because this was all too much and if there was any chance of hope again, it had to be in this Jesus my sisters kept bombarding me with.
And just like in the dream, Courtney and her passing would be the one to unlock the door to heaven for me.
There is A LOT of detail in between. A lot of learning and studying and praying and growing and mourning and serving and wondering and wandering and looking up at the Father and saying “What’s Next?”
And what’s next is this, the World Race, a chance to spread love and hope in his name. And it’s still wild how he is crafting this story.
With God, nothing is wasted.
God is still using Courtney to unlock the doors of heaven but this year it’s in a smaller, yet unbelievably sweet detail.
Courtney loved the outdoors, a trait we all inherited from Dad. As a little girl, I looked up to her for all the reasons a little sister does. I remember 90’s flannels around her waste and cut off jeans as she left the house to hang out with her friends. I remember camping trips and hiking boots. I remember kayak floats with Dad and how brave her spirit was unafraid of whitewater. I remember brand name gear when she probably couldn’t afford it and idealistic goals of hiking trails that would make her feel like Reese Witherspoon in the movie, “Wild.”
She had very little, but she had nice gear.
And four years ago, when we split up all the things she had, undeservingly, I made it home with her pack, her hiking boots, her tent and her sleeping bag.
They have been sitting in my garage unused because something told me I would need them one day.
So today, I’m feeling gifted by her, outside of space and time, hurt feelings and walls I put up to protect my little girl heart from my dying sister. I’m feeling the alive part of her spirit – the one who loved adventure and loud laughter and big ideas.
And when I slip on that brand name pack that we all wondered why she was buying because she definitely couldn’t afford, it will feel like a big heavy hug that I never got to have with Court. The big, heavy hug that I know we’ll have again one day.
Oh, how he loves us so.
