A dear friend of mine, Cheryl Wilkins, went home to be with Jesus this past Saturday. Her obituary, penned by her own hand, is worth reading.
Here is what I wrote to be read at her funeral:
Cheryl was one of those people. Those people that come into your
life and leave mark upon mark in real and lasting ways. While we have been
friends for years, it was during her illness and specifically the past 2 years
that she and I wrote often and long about struggles, sickness, her girls, my
own family struggles, dreams, hurts, theology, we touched on a lot and it was
never light. We corresponded almost weekly. She was always all in. She sent me
a gift through a friend that visited our town a month ago. Her card, hand written, called me a 'kindred spirit'. And I cannot think of a better way to describe
what she meant to me: a true kindred spirit.
Yet I think it might
be helpful for others to get a picture of her impact and glorify God with me
through my telling just a little of what I saw and learned through this dear
friend:
Cheryl heard from God and obeyed with trust not fear.
When
David and I first met her she filled us in on all of her plans to set up Homes
for AIDS orphans in our town, and then put Chinese Christian foster parents in
charge. We thought she was a little bit crazy. How could she do all that? It
was an incredible idea, but without much Chinese language we wondered how it
would happen. These homes were up and running within months. She had government
help (amazing in itself), she went to the poorest of the poor, the rejected,
and brought them in. We watched her love on orphans and widows week in and week
out. She trusted God and demonstrated what God's word calls 'pure and undefiled
religion' better than anyone I know.
Cheryl loved the least of these and was willing to get
messy to show it
She introduced us to some of these folks in dire
situations. One couple in particular was from a local minority and couldn't
speak Chinese so Cheryl invited David to go along, because he can speak both
languages. This man had full blown AIDS and his wife was HIV positive and
wouldn't take her medicine. The man had sores all over his body. Cheryl touched
this man as she examined him, and she dug
her hand in and around some of his open sores with just a tissue (and no
gloves). Later, as she recounted this to
me she just laughed saying: 'I know I grossed David out at that'. But she loved
on these people that everyone else shunned, and what a picture of Jesus she was
to us in those moments.
Cheryl was just plain real, she called it like she saw
it, and she knew how to belly laugh, even at herself.
I
can picture it now…tears in her eyes from laughter. The sparkle of her smile.
God called her to a work that daily dealt in tragic suffering, meanness,
injustice, cruelty, sin-dealt realities that would shock most anyone. She could
take it and then tell a story about it and find joy and even humor in some of
the craziest of tales. I wish she had written a book. She told us this story
with a wide grin: One time the local school in our town would not let some of
her kids from the foster home attend. She said: 'Xiao Ping…get in the car', so
they went down there and she stormed in the principal's office and she gave him
a piece of her mind in a mix of English and Chinese…finally XiaoPing said:
'mama..that's enough, let's go mama'. Sure her temper got the best of her and
she knew it, but she could laugh at herself and have everyone belly laughing
too.
Cheryl was a consistent friend.
For a few years there, it was our tradition to
spend Christmas Eve at her house with another family. This was a very special
time of celebrating Jesus through friendship and watching all of our kids play
together.
And
though she spent a lot of her ministry in the mucky places, she loved to have a
retreat at the Conrad in Bangkok, an incredibly nice hotel. She would delight
to tell me about the amazing breakfast and how much her girls loved the pool.
We happened to be in Bangkok about to give birth to our third child. She
invited our family to swim with them. The C-section delivery of my son was
scheduled for four days later, so we went. I felt so awful. She and I watched
all the girls and David play in the pool while we talked. She told me I was
going to have the baby the next day. She also volunteered to take our girls if
I did go into labor. And indeed we had to call her. Our family that was coming
to help wasn’t arriving until later that morning. Cheryl and LiuBo and Isa will
always be a part of Tobin's birth story. Then she and girls came to visit us at
the hospital too. This may not seem like a big deal, but giving birth to all of
our kids overseas means that we never have many visitors like people do in the
States, this was very special to us.
Cheryl's role as a mom to LiuBo and Isa taught me so
much, even in her last months.
We
talked about parenting often. In one of her latest emails to David just two
weeks ago, she reminded us that it is all about helping our kids get the skills
to cope with life, she said: 'the most important thing is that you are present
and available.' She went on to say how she spent time with her girls sowing
into their strengths. She always had so many great tidbits about doing life
raising daughters. And she was vulnerable too, she got very real in some of her
letters about navigating life as a mom who was dying. In her humility and
weakness I saw God give amazing strength for her to give her all to her girls
while she could.
There is much more
to be said, and more stories to tell, and though I cannot be there, I am
grieving with you all. I grieve with LiuBo and Isabella. I grieve with friends
who have similar stories of Cheryl's impact on their life. I honestly can't
believe she is gone. And the moments when I try to let it sink in I picture her
contagious smile singing praise to Jesus in glory. She loved to dance and sing
and she is doing that right now, with her every breath, coming to her so easy
now, she is fully alive praising her king.
And in our grief,
remember we don't lack joy, we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Let me
quote an article I read recently. It was so timely:
Grief is not the opposite of joy. The opposite of joy
is despair. Grief is a sign of a heart alive, of red blood pumping oxygen to
the part of our soul that longs to see the un-reflected face of Jesus.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
and the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace
