Megs

Megan,

My waking thoughts this morning were that this is a day that should not be. Today, we would witness a father, a mother and two brothers say their final goodbye to a precious daughter and sister. And we would share in their grief.

At the service, we heard what an exceptional young woman you had become and how your faith and love for God had grown over the years. We heard of your kindness towards others, your joys in life and your hopes and dreams. These weren't anything new to those of us that had watched you grow. But what was so special and unknown to me was the depths to which you had grown in your spiritual walk. Your journal entries that were shared proved what your priorities were in life and it humbled me that you had it figured out so young, when I, over twice your age, still struggle with getting my priorities right.

I watched your mom, sweet Sandra, time and again, comforting those who should have been comforting her, and I realized that the grace and wisdom you already had in your short years was instilled at home by your parents and the work of God in your life.

At the graveside, the reality of the finality of death hit everyone so deeply. My heart broke as I watched my daughter and her friend, the last two remaining of the three musketeers cry in each other's arms as they learned the hard lesson that death isn't reserved for the old and sick. Or the deserving.

Thank you, Megan, for living a life that inspires us all to want to live better, love more, be kinder, and most of all live for things beyond this life.

It was said that God only picks the ripest, sweetest fruit. We weren't ready for you to be picked yet, but you were and that's all that matters.