One lesson this summer taught me is this: death often comes when we least expect it, and when it arrives we want more time with the people and things that matter. And we want to spend less time doing the things that don’t.

Death and grief knocked at the door of two of my closest friends this summer. Death spared one friend, but not the other. Grief was less gracious.

I realized death may be lingering around the corner for one friend when she texted:

Hey y’all. Please pray for my mom…she was rushed to the hospital. She is dying. I’m praying for a miracle but the doctor said it would be a miracle if she pulls through. However, anything can happen. Please pray for my family.

I dropped my phone when I read the text and yelled, “Oh my God!”

“Baby, what’s wrong?” my husband asked.

“It’s Ashley, her mom’s in the hospital. She’s dying. But how?! She seemed healthy. I don’t understand… how?!” I tell him and burst into tears.

He holds me and lets me cry. When I finish I tell him, “I’m calling her, I don’t know what to say to this.”

I pick up the phone and press Ashley’s number wondering if she’ll answer. She does.

“Ashley, I read your text. I don’t know what to say…” and I start crying again.

She says, “Yeah. It’s a lot. I’m at the hospital. I see my brothers coming. I don’t want to cry. I want to be strong.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m going to pray. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and hangs up.

I prayed to the Lord and asked him to give Ashley’s mom more time if that was his will. I asked him to help the doctors to perform a miracle as only he can.

Ashley’s mom died that night. I found out through a text message from another friend after taking my son for a walk. The text said:

Ash’ s mom passed away. I just sent her a text. Steph said a lot was going on right now so I’m going to wait to call tomorrow but I did send her a text to check on her.

Have you ever felt the wind leave your body? You want to speak but you find that when you open your mouth no words come out? You want to move but it’s like your body forgot how to do that so you find yourself standing frozen in place. Then when you’re aware that you’re just standing there but you still don’t know what to do with yourself you just allow your body to fall onto the nearest object next to you? I felt all those things after reading that text and let my body fall onto my bed.

Deep down I knew death was a possibility when Ash texted us that her mom was dying but I held fast to hope. I hoped it wasn’t her mom’s time. I didn’t expect this. No one did. But that’s the thing about death. It’s easy for her to sneak up on us. Especially when we spend our time thinking about everything else but the moment when it will inevitably arrive.

This didn’t make sense. Mrs. Johnson seemed perfectly fine the last time I saw her. This didn’t make sense. Two weeks before Ash was texting us to ask us if we wanted to go see Brandy and Monica in concert. This didn’t make sense. How could we be laughing about what we wanted to wear to the concert and where we’d stay for our girls trip and now be crying wondering how to help our friend bear this grief? This didn’t make sense.

Death introduced herself to my other friend three weeks ago. Their meeting was brief, but impactful. She was sitting in the middle passenger seat of a car on a road trip to Fredericksburg with some friends. They were singing songs on the radio, laughing, and making plans for the following weekend when a truck slammed into the back of their car, leaving my friend unconscious.

She doesn’t remember the moment the cars collided. She doesn’t remember what hit her in the back of her head. She doesn’t remember the ride in the ambulance to the hospital. She remembers waking up in a hospital bed. She remembers being told she lost consciousness when she was hit and in the ambulance. She remembers being told she had two brain bleeds and that she wouldn’t be able to walk. She remembers being told she almost died.

My friend, who to this point in her life hasn’t been a believer, asked me to pray for her when she told me what happened to her. She asked me for scriptures to read to get through this time.

“I’m wondering what the lesson in this is, Jeanine,” she told me on the phone, “I want to know why this happened to me.”

I told her I don’t know why this happened to her but I am sure one day it will all make sense. I told her listening to her repeat, “What am I supposed to learn from this? Why did this happen to me?” reminds me of a hymn we used to sing in church when I was a little girl. I sang it to her.

Farther along we'll know all about it,
Farther along we'll understand why;
Cheer up, my brother, live in the sunshine
We'll understand it, all by and by.

When death has come and taken our loved ones,
It leaves our home so lonely and drear;
Then do we wonder why others prosper,
Living so wicked year after year.

Farther along we'll know all about it,
Farther along we'll understand why;
Cheer up, my brother, live in the sunshine
We'll understand it, all by and by. 

Faithful till death said our loving Master,
A few more days to labor and wait;
Toils of the road will then seem as nothing,
As we sweep through the beautiful gate.

“We don’t always understand things when we’re experiencing them. We get angry, we get sad, we question God and ask him why. Things often don’t make sense in the now. But one day they will,” I tell her.

She thanked me and told me she really needed some encouragement and only wanted to see her closest friends right now. She asked me would I drive to see her when I could. Of course I would, I told her.

I saw her two days ago. We walked around her neighborhood. We walked. The very thing she couldn’t do two days prior she was doing with me at a slow pace, but she was doing it! We talked about the things she’s grieving: losing her ability to run, some of her memories, her fear of driving. We talked about the things she’s learned to appreciate: her health, walking, stopping to gaze at the beauty of a tree, spirituality.

“God gave me a second chance at life. I almost died! Like I almost died! I’ll never be the same,” she told me.

Watching my friends meet death and grief this summer has led to me doing some introspection on how I’m using the time God has given me. While death and grief are overwhelming, consuming, and all encompassing I am realizing they can also be gifts. They wake us up from our comfort slumber. They force us to see our mortality. They force us to examine how we’re living our lives and if the lives we’re leading will get us to where we want to go if we continue the same habits we’ve been keeping thus far.

I got a job two months ago. While it has been a major blessing and I am thankful to God for giving it to me I am realizing I fell back into some old habits trying to prove myself in the role. Habits like putting work first, letting work drive my anxiety, and letting work distract me from the things that matter, the things that bring me joy.

Hearing my friend tell me she’ll never be the same reminded me that I don’t want to be who I used to be anymore either. I don’t want to be defined by my work. I don’t want to give all of the best parts of me to work. When death arrives for me I am certain I won’t wish I had given more to my job. Instead, I hope that when she arrives she’ll escort me to my Maker and he’ll tell me, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” He’ll tell me I lived a life that was pleasing to him and brought honor and glory to his name.

To achieve that, I’ve got some changes to make. I have to:

• Close my laptop at 5:30 p.m.
• Be available to others to encourage them.
• Use the gifts God has given me to tell others about him.
• Make time for the people and things that bring me joy like my family, friends, writing, and reading.

When my time’s up, I want to leave this earth with a smile on my face knowing I made a difference, and I was present in the places that mattered.

As I bring this entry to a close I want to encourage you to engage in some introspection. When you consider your own life, are you giving most of your time and energy to the people and things that matter? Or are you guilty of giving the best parts of yourself to things that don’t really matter in the scheme of life (like work, creating a facade on social media, etc.)? Wherever you are on your journey I hope you make space to:

• Prioritize the people that matter by spending quality time with them (hop on a plane if you need to, get in the car to drive to see them, give them your undivided attention)
• Prioritize doing more of the things that truly bring you joy (give yourself at least 1 hour a day to do more of the things that make your soul and spirit feel alive)

Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave a comment if this touched you.

With love,

Jeanine