I've been known to say out loud that I love a great funeral. The kind where the deceased lived a full life, faithful to the Lord for as long as they knew Him. Obedient. A blessing to everyone they come in contact with. An inspiration to anyone who happens to get a glimpse of their life.
I realized something last week. Typically those are the funerals of someone I only knew from a distance or heard of or wish I had known. Not someone close. Not someone who walked into my life and took up residence in my heart.
I had to say goodbye to someone like that last week. She would never approve of me giving an entire blogpost in her memory but I must. Maybe because of it joy will replace the sadness many of us feel at her death or the death of someone else close.
Liliya came into my life many years ago. She was a sweet, quiet young single woman who attended the same church as I did. She came to Bible studies in my home. She joined me in women's ministry. I often pointed her out to my daughter as a role model. She dressed fashionably but always with the most tasteful modesty. She didn't need a man to "complete" her. She was so content in her singleness and it only added to her extreme devotion to her true Love and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Eventually, because we are sermon junkies, we took many a road trip to various women's conferences together. She was the best travelling companion. She always took care of all the details. She got the tickets, arranged the hotels, mapped the route and drove. Yeah, you could say she liked being in control. Don't we all?
She was also tremendously devoted to her family. Liliya lived with her parents and two brothers. She took responsibility and cared for them in every way. Most decisions she made about herself ran through the filter of how it served them first. She was closest to her younger sister and her sweet family. She loved being an aunt to Luba's children. She went out of her way and above normal expectations to bless them. It cost her something. It cost her everything, she devoted her life to serving them be causes of her devotion to Jesus and she wouldn't have done it any other way.
At the funeral, someone said she spent very little on herself, giving the rest to her family and anyone she knew of who was in need. I can testify to this firsthand.
When we moved away from Syracuse four years ago, I wouldn't have imagined that my friendship with Liliya would be one of the sustaining, life-giving relationships God would use to bless, comfort and encourage me to trust Him through a very long, difficult season.
I mean, we were friends and I knew I'd miss her, but I didn't expect her to rise up to be one of my closest confidantes. It began when I just happened to run into her in Pittsburgh at a Women of Faith Conference. I was there with my new people. At that point, the ground under my feet was shaky and I didn't know what the future looked like for our family but I did know it didn't look good. I felt vulnerable and weak but needed to follow through on leading this trip.
During the first session I got a text from Liliya. "Are you here in Pittsburgh?" Her darling sister, my Facebook friend saw that I was there and told Liliya. "Let's meet for lunch." Have you ever been in a situation where seeing a familiar face caused you to melt into a puddle on the spot?
We made eye contact and she hugged me. She immediately knew I wasn't myself and asked what was wrong. Because I've always known her to be safe, I spilled it all. It was messy. Not every person can handle another's messiness.
After I brought her up to speed and told her how my husband's character was being attacked, wrongfully accused of uncharacteristic behavior and how we were both being deliberately misrepresented to our new people, she looked me square in the eye and said, "That's not our Scott." And I wept. "Our Scott". God sent Liliya to me that day as someone who was familiar yet on the outside enough to speak life-giving affirmations I desperately needed. She went on to tell me all the things she knew to be true about Scott and his ministry.
Here's the thing, the enemy can mess with us sometimes. If we aren't careful and don't have people around us to tell us they are lies, we can believe his accusations especially when they come from those we thought we could trust and eventually fall into despair.
She wiped my tears, prayed with me and sent me back with promise of continued prayers.
We didn't know then that I was walking into a dark, difficult season that would last three years.
Throughout those years, Liliya didn't forget me. Frequently she would send me articles she had read, devotions she thought would lift me up, and messages of love to remind me who God is and how He feels about me.
She would invite me to more women's conferences. I would gratefully decline but would never say the reason was that the expense wasn't in our new much smaller budget. She would insist that she had a "free ticket" and that the hotel was "already paid for". Generous. Kind. Caring. Unselfish.
I would argue that she should invite someone who would be better company. She would insist my company blessed her. What? I didn't believe her.
But here's this one thing about Liliya that is usually ugly in most, but somehow beautiful in her - she's bossy. And stubborn.
She showed up at my house and picked me up, not taking no for an answer. She would say things like, "God wants you here." "God has a message for you."
One trip in particular, after I got over the guilt of going as her guest once again, I looked forward to one speaker who I'd never heard in person before but had read many of his books. I was so broken and empty but knew God would use him to speak to me. And he did.
From the moment Max Lucado took the stage until he stepped off, I cried buckets in my seat. Liliya didn't say a word. She didn't look at me. She just slipped her arm around my shoulders and kept it there the whole time until I was done and encouraged.
What a gift. God does send us help when we need it. Of course, the 'help' needs to be willing to go out on a limb and be used, even if it cost them something. That's my Liliya.
Never assuming. Always obedient. I croaked those two stories to her when she was lying on her death bed a few months ago. She said, "I was just doing what Jesus asked me to do." Oh to live so plugged in to what Jesus is requiring.
She cheered me on continually and believed with me that God was doing something in my life that would result in goodness. She constantly reminded me that it was a season and wouldn't last forever. We prayed together that we would marvel at how amazingly He would complete that chapter.
Neither of us could have imagined that my hard season would end as her worst would start. For many months, we believed she was beating her cancer. So much so that she wouldn't tell her family or anyone else of her diagnosis - she was so sure God would heal it. I was too.
Almost simultaneously, I stepped into the fulfillment of God's promises to me as her health began diminishing and it became clear that God was not going to heal her in this life, but would grant her ultimate healing.
We talked of our mutual sadness, mine being much greater than hers. She was completely at peace with His decision. She was eager to say goodbye to the sufferings of this world and step into paradise. She had her eye on the prize - the face of her sweet Jesus. In all that time, she wanted to hear every detail of God's blessing toward us. There was not a hint of jealousy or question of why the good was falling on me and not her.
In her controlling, bossy, yet beautiful way she made final arrangements for the care of her family. Her only fears were that of losing control of her mind and somehow dishonoring Christ in her last days. For much longer than any of us advised, she resisted pain medications, choosing to suffer physical pain rather than risk sinning. Courageous.
In our last conversations, I asked her to give me something for this blog. I told her she had a distinct advantage and opportunity to tell the rest of us what her regrets are and what she knows now that we don't yet know. It took her a few days, but when she finally agreed, this is what she said. "All I know is that God is faithful. He is so good and I wished I obeyed Him better. I wish I didn't work so much. (She worked two and three jobs to care for her family's needs.) I wish I had spent more time with people. I wish I had served others better. My advice is to work less and live more. Make people more important than work."
During her last month, every time I spoke with her she would ask me to pray that God would take her. She was ready to go. As I said at her funeral a few days ago, I think her fearlessness of death is startling because she is so young. Most of us want to cling to this life and what we know. Not Liliya, she knew what she was living for. Who she was living for and that eternity with Him would be far greater than "how bad it's getting down here".
Assurance. She knew her Bible. She knew the Lord. She taught us how to live and how to die. My life is richer because of her influence. I'm going to miss Liliya but find myself smiling whenever I picture her in her new home. I imagine her mischievous grin, lightness in her feet, dancing probably. She has her gaze fixed on her One True Love.
Come to think of it, I'm a little jealous.
"For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For if you do all these things, you will never fail, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." 2 Peter 1:5-8, 10,11
"And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He who has the Son has life; He who does not have the Son of God does not have life." 1 John 3:11,12