Sad Days

I wish I had more to say, or that I felt like showing you pictures from last month. But I don't.
My sister is gone, and it grieves me. Here is what I shared at her funeral:

Michelle and I were ten years apart. When she was decorating her room with New Kids on the Block and Vanilla Ice posters, I was learning why you don’t touch a hot stove and how to add 2 + 2. It had to be annoying to have a small child around as a teenager. One time while she was babysitting me, I ate a penny. She was so worried (not that I would get hurt, but) that she would get in trouble. So she made me drink a giant container of neon yellow Gatorade in attempt to flush it out or something. Another time I antagonized her so much trying to get her attention, that when she finally snapped she chased me around the house with scissors. We were fine, and I’m sure she meant no harm, but that memory is vivid. She was a terrible babysitter, but she was my awesome big sister. I was eight years old when Hurricane Andrew ripped through Miami. It was a scary night, but every few minutes we would do Projectile drills, preparing for the possibility that if something came flying through the window we would duck behind the couch and hide under my Garfield sleeping bag set up behind the couch that night. When she was getting married and having her baby, I was watching Full House and braiding my hair. At her wedding, I was her Maid of Honor. She picked out my forest green dress, and had me stand next to her on her big day. I was her friend. She introduced me to a sense of humor that was awkward, offbeat and hilarious. I can’t tell you how many times we watched Austin Powers (1, 2 and 3) together. I think we had it memorized. In so many ways, we were different. But in the ways that were important we knew and understood each other. Now I think of all the things we had in common; the beauty of a good song, the value of a stylish purse, the treasure of a great movie, the flavor of un buen sofrito, the depth of a warm hug. She did not get to experience enough great songs and jokes. She’s missed out on some amazing cooking from Mamita. But she was blessed beyond belief. She is cherished, not forgotten. Ten years ago, times got tough for her. She was going through a hard time and many life changes. All I knew to do was to share with her my source of hope and strength, Jesus. I told her of His greatness, His promises, His gift to us, and my sister rededicated her life to the Lord that day. Though this world had her down, God was with her. She was never alone. I think some days it doesn’t feel that way, but she knew that she was created for a purpose, crafted in His image, and bought at a price. Life got hard for her again, and now I feel incredible sadness, but my confidence is not in this world. It will let us down. My confidence is in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who came to be with her and never left her. He is more powerful than her sadness, victorious over her losses, more wondrous over life’s disappointments. My prayer for her, and for you, is that you see God for who He is - our loving Creator, Father, Redeemer, Sustainer and Friend. May you and I be comforted by Him in our loss, and know that our hope is not in this world and this life, but in Him.