I'm back but only briefly.
Some changes to our travel schedule enabled me to be home for an extra 48 hours before we leave for another few days.
Walter and I drove from Regina to Calgary on Tuesday morning following the Thanksgiving weekend.  It was a pleasant and relaxing drive, with the odd combine in the fields and some lovely colourful leaves still on the trees as we headed west.  The miles (kilometres?) flew by as we listened to an audio book of James Herriot's All Creatures Great and Small.  As we neared Calgary, Walter caught a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains and breathed a sigh.  We reached our destination exactly at the time we had hoped and could relax with our friends for the evening.
Why were we in Calgary, you may ask. Friends, whom Walter had lived with in the early 1980's, lost their 22-year-old daughter, Danielle, to Lyme Disease.  Her passing was both sudden and tragic, as she was undergoing treatments and was actually up and out of bed in recent weeks.  But because of some side-effects of the treatments, Danielle developed Seratonin Syndrome and had to be hospitalized.  She was unable to sleep and began to struggle with mental/psychological symptoms that the medical staff were trying to bring under control.  Sadly, she was unable to recover and went into cardiac arrest.  She never regained consciousness and the family had a few days to say good-bye before she slipped away into her Saviour's arms.
I believe I wrote some of this story in a previous blog. My battle earlier was that I was in the midst of acknowledging the loss of my Dad and the one-year markers that were coming up in the journey of my grieving.  I felt so numb, so unfeeling towards the Adrian family as Danielle's life was hanging in the balance.  When she did pass away, I felt some sadness but almost felt on the outside as Walter wept and felt this loss profoundly.
Because of the nature of Danielle's passing and the battle with our Canadian medical system to even acknowledge Lyme Disease as real, the family requested an autopsy.  With Thanksgiving weekend also coming up, the actual memorial service was set for about ten days from the time of her death.  This worked well for family and friends traveling, but as I know from personal experience, it can be difficult to grieve and process in the days before a postponed service.
About 600 people, young and elderly, were present in the large church sanctuary.  A beautiful black and white photograph of Danielle stood among some brightly coloured flower arrangements.  On the overhead screen above the front stage, was a set of three poses of Danielle in a blue plaid shirt, standing in a wheat field.  In one of the poses, she stood with arms stretched out, eyes closed and face lifted to the sky. What a lovely depiction of her desire to be with Jesus!  So many of the tributes and songs shared reflected her acceptance of the disease and its ultimate end being her "graduation" to heaven.
One of the poems Danielle had penned while in her bedridden condition had been put to music by a very talented young lady.  She sang to her own piano accompaniment and it was very touching.  This poem had been a blessing to several of her friends who had decided to turn their lives around to follow Jesus and not give up.  Wow!
The pastor shared a captivating presentation of the Gospel as the final portion of the memorial service.  Not hard and heavy but clear and inviting.  The image from John 14 of the mansion God is preparing for us gave me such a longing, such an ache for "home".  He explained how the eastern cultures often had the young married couples live in the family home, but just another room was added to accommodate them.  So the wording of verse 2 made sense in the middle-eastern context:  "In my Father's house are many rooms..."  That sense of being welcomed to a home where family was waiting and our Father was making things ready for our arrival was such a warm and beautiful picture for me.  The hope that the pastor communicated was very real and solid in the face of a too-young and too-soon death.  And that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6) for us to be received into this amazing heavenly home gave that assurance that our faith in Jesus Christ is not in vain.
So, we grieved but not as those who have no hope.  I cried through some of the service,  I felt the stinging of tears when we greeted Danielle's Mom and Dad, who smiled and spoke of their thankfulness for God's timing and peace in everything.  How incredible is God's grace in times like this! I'm back at my earthly home, but not for long.  We leave Sunday for a conference in Alberta.  I have the reminder that this world is not my true home ~ we're all just traveling through...