She was once so weak that she couldn't walk. But she came. It made all the difference. One game, she could barely make it across the field. We carried a chair foward every few feet so she could walk and then rest. Everything she had was for Him. She told us to give it all for God's glory, and that in the end, nothing else would matter. I remember talking to her after a dinner. She leaned against a wall and looked up at me. "The apostle Paul is my personal hero." She held her hand out, motioning, and smiled. At times she was physically wiped, wrapped in blankets and still shivering. not a word of complaint, not a cry of pain. Her frail body was in suffering for a long time, yet she had so much strength and joy. I never knew a woman so close to her maker, so strong in the faith, and so tested. She was always straightforward and honest. She looked life right in the eye. She was ready.
I don't have any good words in my dry mouth. Nothing comes but tears and grief. Is grief good?
Oh but she is with Him, Him in all His glory, and now they wait for us.
Still-
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