Today I made two visits that I knew I would make one year ago. One with Sarah’s mom and the other to Sarah’s husband.

I met Sarah when I was ‘the youth pastor’s wife’ and Sarah was one of the youth. She was quiet, but when she smiled, you felt like smiling with her.

Several years later she became the ‘youth pastor’s wife’ and my husband was the lead. Her personality remained reserved, but her smile was now matched by an incredible passion for the Lord that oozed out of her and sweetly touched the lives of the young people of our church.

And me!

Sarah had a way of seeing the one who was on the outside of the group and loving on them. You could notice her listening intently in the group, not jumping in the conversation until her encouragement could be heard. And it was always encouragement. I often admired her words of affirmation, or her word from the Lord, fresh and full of life and passion.

I loved her presence in my own daughter’s lives. Her example and kindness to them meant so much, recognizing while they were the pastor’s kids they were sometimes the outsiders.

As my husband and I were preparing to leave our ministry at that church, I was invited to a luncheon of the leadership wives. This group had come to mean a great deal to me. They each brought a small gift of some sort and I was to guess who gave it. Among them was a white word ornament with glitter on it. The word was Faith. I looked around the table- these women were women of faith- it could be any one of them. I had seen them all take  steps of faith in our journey together.

And then I looked to my left, the slender young woman at my side. Sarah! “You’ve modeled faith for me so often” she said, “even now in your leaving here. I wanted you to have this.” I marveled at her words. I was feeling many things, but I hadn’t felt much like a model of faith. After lunch she shared ways see had seen faith in me over our time together. I thanked her- and I thanked God for the gracious reminder that someone had seen that part of me.

I didn’t see Sarah often after that. But when we did, I knew our conversation wouldn’t stay on the surface greetings. She would always share something she was learning, or a new way God had met her that week. My heart always looked forward to those connections.

One very special connection was a few weeks after our youngest daughter Leisha had died in a tragic car\pedestrian accident. She had loved my girls, so her tender heart was broken for us. And being a new mom herself, she was extra sensitive toward me. She called one day and said, “I would like to host a “love shower” for you. Will you let me do this?” I wasn’t sure what a love shower might be, but I could tell it would be special.

So on the appointed evening, I drove to her home. Lights were low. Husband and child were gone. One by one, special friends over the years began to arrive. The table sat eight. Over beautiful desserts, we talked and laughed and cried together as we shared stories of shared lives. My grieving heart lightened as the burden was carried briefly by others that I knew loved me and loved my sweet girl. Each presented their love gift- words of affirmation along with a written version of that gift. Sarah collected those cards and created a memory book for me to take home.

Then she gave me her gift. A Willow tree character called “courage”. I couldn’t help but cry. How could she know that my word for Leisha was  courage? I had given each of my girls a necklace with a characteristic with on it that I thought represented them. Caitlin was strength. Brielle was spirit. And Leisha was courage. I knew it would take all the courage I could muster to face the days of grief ahead of me. But in this moment, through Sarah’s gift, I heard Leisha cheer ” have courage mom!”. I was so deeply grateful for Sarah’s gift of friends, of a beautiful quiet moment together, and for courage.

One year ago this month, I attended the memorial celebration of Sarah’s life. Cherished Wife, Beautiful mom of 4 precious boys, gracious daughter, sister mentor & friend. Sarah had “lost her battle” to cancer as they say. Though as I heard her life being celebrated, stories being shared, testimonies of her intimate walk with the Lord, I was keenly aware that Sarah didn’t lose here. She was kneeling at the feet of Jesus, her head in his lap, his hand on her shoulder. Right where she longed to be every day. And next to her was my daughter.

It was at that moment that I knew I must pass Courage on. Sarah gave it to me in my time of deepest grief. Now I would give it to her mother in a role we share of having lost a child.

So today was that day.

The one Sarah gave me went to her mom, Mary. But I got another to give to her dear husband, Paul, and his tribe of young sons, Wade, Luke, Lane and Austin.

The depth of their pain reminded me of how intense it can be-especially the  days before the anniversary. And the family just celebrated her birthday this week too! A reminder that time has passed and she is not here with them.

But as we spoke, we commented how “ahead” our girls were. Sarah who was a mentor for my Leisha. They lived passionately. The loved people. And they did it with courage.

Now must we!

As Sarah would say, “Let’s get to it!”