Until We Meet Again: Hope of Eternity for Restored Relationships

An old school friend died recently. We were in school together K-12, but had lost touch since high school. I think the last time I saw her was when she came to my shower and my wedding in the early 2000’s.

She gave me some of the best advice I’ve ever received. I had a rough time my last year of high school, for various reasons some of which I think I’m still fully processing to this day. On top of all of that, I felt deep guilt that I was struggling.

I was comparing our difficulties. I didn’t understand how she could so gracefully traverse a much harder life than the one I was given, while I was fighting hard to keep my head above water. She told me,

I remembered those words and quote them to myself often. When I struggled with anxiety in my mid-twenties, when my husband had a relapse to his depression, when I lost a baby to miscarriage, when my husband struggled with mental illness and existential/spiritual crises, when my daughter was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease. Every time I’ve faced a difficulty and I felt the waves of guilt that I wasn’t coping as well as someone else who seemed to be in a worse situation, I remembered what she said to me.

Firstly, that God would give me the strength to carry on. Secondly, that I cannot compare my struggles to someone else’s.

This dear friend had a rare disease, one that I cannot remember the full name of, that required many specialist visits, numerous medications and, ultimately, a kidney transplant.

I remember the day she got the call for the transplant. It didn’t feel real for any of us. She was almost glowing at the news. Her face looked as though she didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. She was out of school for a long time and it took her a while to catch up once she was back, but she still graduated with our class.

We were walking partners. Someone had the bright idea that instead of processing in alphabetically, we should pick who we wanted to walk in with at our graduation. I didn’t have that many close friends during high school but she and I had been friends for so long, it seemed like an obvious choice for us both. We started together in kindergarten and we finished together walking onto that stage to receive our diplomas.

I remember in my childlike way praying and genuinely believing that God could heal her. For awhile a kidney transplant did that. Now she is whole. Without all the medications and pain, only experiencing the joy and presence of Jesus. I like to imagine her among the people I’ve known and loved who have gone on before, sitting on a big front porch in rocking chairs, laughing and enjoying a well-earned rest.

I don’t know what heaven is like, but that image gives me hope. Hope that while this life does matter, that this isn’t all there is. That while I may have done a poor job of staying in touch in this life, hopefully we’ll have time to catch up in the next.