My first year teaching, back when Facebook was still relevant and children were trying to convince their parents they needed a social media profile, a young girl in my first 4th grade class asked if she could "friend" me on Facebook. She expressed that her parents wouldn't allow her to create a profile, but when the day came, she wanted permission to add me to her list of friends. While this doesn't carry much weight now, this did much to solidify my self-ranked position as the "cool teacher." This became a popular request for a time, and my response was always the same: When you graduate high school, you send me a friend request.
That first class was my toughest. Maybe it was being a first year teacher. Maybe it was being out so many days for Hurricane Ike. Maybe it was due to planning a wedding or being away from all my family. When that class walked out my "door" (open concept campus--there were no doors) on the last day of school, the boys raced to their dismissal areas and three girls stayed behind to cry in my shirt, hug me tight and say their goodbyes. The sweet girl mentioned above was one of them. We would see each other again later that weekend as her parents brought her to a park to hang out with Travis and me for a couple of hours. While that first year of teaching seemed to drag, life since then has sped past at a break-neck pace.
Since meeting that first class, Trav and I made it through a hurricane, we got engaged, we married, we learned he was dying, we changed jobs, we got pregnant, we had twins, we convinced my parents to move in with us, we shared our faith with tens of thousands of people, we said goodbye to one another. We were able to pack so much life into those 3.5 years with cancer. There are 8 years between 4th grade and 12th grade graduation. We could've done most of that twice over in that time.
I received an invitation to celebrate the graduation of one of my former students. This invitation led me to hours of searching and surfing on various social medias. I began looking for that first class. They would be finishing up their first year in college, and much to my chagrin, no one had sent me a friend request. I typed in the name of the sweet girl who made this original, verbal friend request all those years ago. My search was instantly arrested as my screen displayed her smiling face and her obituary. She had passed away after her battle with cancer in March 2017, two months shy of high school graduation. I began frantically Googling whatever I could find about her. She was in the color guard. They honored her with an early diploma. 4 days before her death, she received a FaceTime call from Beyoncé . I spent hours poring over articles, videos, interviews. She was the same. Even in her bleak, dismal circumstance, she was still that vivacious, softhearted, Beyoncé-obsessed little girl. While 8 years may seem like a long time to wait for a friend request, it isn't nearly enough time to enjoy those we love.
How quickly we forget...how quickly I forget that life is so short. It seems so cliche to say and impossible to understand without having experienced loss. Time is one of my favorite and least favorite things. It's a lot like cancer. It makes us aware of what is important and gives us a sense of urgency. And also like cancer, one day time will come to an end. While the stakes haven't changed and the mission remains the same, my sense of urgency has waned. This affects everything--my priorities, my actions, my words, my parenting, my relationships, my worship, my walk of faith. This obituary was a painful, painful reminder that we have a finite amount of time here. And if we are still here, God isn't finished with us yet. We are still called to love. Love is what everything boils down to. Love is why Jesus came. Love is what held the King to the cross. Love is what He gave us, despite it being unrequited. And love is how the world will know we are His.
Father, give us the courage and the obedience to love on somebody. Today. Everyday. Thank you for showing us how. In Christ's name, Amen.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-15 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep.
Matthew 28:18-20 Then Jesus came near and said to them, "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."
Rest easy, sweet girl. Your forever friend, Miss Lewis.
That first class was my toughest. Maybe it was being a first year teacher. Maybe it was being out so many days for Hurricane Ike. Maybe it was due to planning a wedding or being away from all my family. When that class walked out my "door" (open concept campus--there were no doors) on the last day of school, the boys raced to their dismissal areas and three girls stayed behind to cry in my shirt, hug me tight and say their goodbyes. The sweet girl mentioned above was one of them. We would see each other again later that weekend as her parents brought her to a park to hang out with Travis and me for a couple of hours. While that first year of teaching seemed to drag, life since then has sped past at a break-neck pace.
Since meeting that first class, Trav and I made it through a hurricane, we got engaged, we married, we learned he was dying, we changed jobs, we got pregnant, we had twins, we convinced my parents to move in with us, we shared our faith with tens of thousands of people, we said goodbye to one another. We were able to pack so much life into those 3.5 years with cancer. There are 8 years between 4th grade and 12th grade graduation. We could've done most of that twice over in that time.
I received an invitation to celebrate the graduation of one of my former students. This invitation led me to hours of searching and surfing on various social medias. I began looking for that first class. They would be finishing up their first year in college, and much to my chagrin, no one had sent me a friend request. I typed in the name of the sweet girl who made this original, verbal friend request all those years ago. My search was instantly arrested as my screen displayed her smiling face and her obituary. She had passed away after her battle with cancer in March 2017, two months shy of high school graduation. I began frantically Googling whatever I could find about her. She was in the color guard. They honored her with an early diploma. 4 days before her death, she received a FaceTime call from Beyoncé . I spent hours poring over articles, videos, interviews. She was the same. Even in her bleak, dismal circumstance, she was still that vivacious, softhearted, Beyoncé-obsessed little girl. While 8 years may seem like a long time to wait for a friend request, it isn't nearly enough time to enjoy those we love.
How quickly we forget...how quickly I forget that life is so short. It seems so cliche to say and impossible to understand without having experienced loss. Time is one of my favorite and least favorite things. It's a lot like cancer. It makes us aware of what is important and gives us a sense of urgency. And also like cancer, one day time will come to an end. While the stakes haven't changed and the mission remains the same, my sense of urgency has waned. This affects everything--my priorities, my actions, my words, my parenting, my relationships, my worship, my walk of faith. This obituary was a painful, painful reminder that we have a finite amount of time here. And if we are still here, God isn't finished with us yet. We are still called to love. Love is what everything boils down to. Love is why Jesus came. Love is what held the King to the cross. Love is what He gave us, despite it being unrequited. And love is how the world will know we are His.
Father, give us the courage and the obedience to love on somebody. Today. Everyday. Thank you for showing us how. In Christ's name, Amen.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-15 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep.
Matthew 28:18-20 Then Jesus came near and said to them, "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."
Rest easy, sweet girl. Your forever friend, Miss Lewis.
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