The past several days have been anything but easy. We have huddled around each other with free flowing tears and long silent stares, we have reminisced and smiled bittersweet smiles. We have felt the pain of our loved ones deeply while trying to balance our own pain, a pain so visceral it quite literally and physically hurts. We have described our emotions as waves of grief: they come on quick and strong and it feels as if you may drown and never resurface; but as you fight to keep your head above the water it recedes slowly back out to sea leaving you shaken and numb, sitting dumbfounded on the shore, but also thankful because there is the calm between each wave. And even more thankful we have each other to keep us afloat.
The saying goes : its better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. I wont lie and pretend part of me thinks No, the risk of getting hurt, of feeling this pain can be prevented if I just shield myself, if I just love a little less, keep people at arms length. But no, she would not want that for any of us. When Joey loved she loved with her whole heart, she was all in.
Our family has been through enough to know: you don’t leave things unsaid, you make the apology, you knock on the door, you patch that relationship. She really lived that out. You always say I love you and hold tight each and every time you part ways, you CREATE the time it takes to invest in your people. Life can be such a cruel teacher at times but Im forever grateful that we learned these lessons and practiced them together.
I loved the way she lived out her calling, her priorities, she was a cycle breaker, an inspiration and point of loving contact and friendship to SO many. To me she was sister and friend: I love the way she loved my kids, she knew them, she got down on the floor and played with them, she loved them like they were hers. She had such a fun and playful side to her. But she was also a truth teller, an encourager; a servant hearted leader who would put you in your place if the need arose. I’ll never forget her distinctive laugh, her quirky nick names she liked to hand out, and just the way she could fill up the entire room with her energy.
She was proof that of all of the things we don’t understand about God, miracles can and do happen. You just cant deny that. I am always so proud to tell her story and share it every chance I get. And I will continue to tell it to whoever will listen. Because yes its a story about pain and struggle and heartbreak but also its an example of what you do with that pain, an example of finding strength in weakness. Instead of letting it break you down and letting it make you its victim, you find ways to use it as a stepping stone, as a building block, a spring board into new life. Use it tell your own resurrection story.
To me that is what Jolissa embodies, she will remain a symbol of hope and things yet to come.
💜💜💜
