Many months ago, my best friend pressed me to read Kara Tippett’s writing at Mundane Faithfulness. Upon Amie’s mention that, “Oh…and by the way, I should mention she’s dying…”, I turned my ears off. Not because I have a limited ability to grieve, but because I have an unlimited ability to grieve. Due to my lack of natural boundaries, I carefully monitor my emotional bank account, and my conscious withdrawals from it.

I could not have guessed that this Kara, a woman I had never met, had something she’d like to DEPOSIT onto my emotional balance sheet. Amie, having known her in high school, just kept insisting. So I started reading…and reading…and reading.

Kara came to Indy in November for a book signing, and you can bet, Amie and I were there. I took pages upon pages of notes, because what Kara had to offer us in her final days was nothing short of a miracle: she showed us Jesus. The real Jesus and his Big Love, and with her words, she made it clear the entire point of suffering.

Just like that.

God, his mercy, Jesus’ purpose, and therefore mine, all became quite lucid. All told via the words of a woman leaving behind 4 beautiful children, a husband, and a huge church community. Kara did not have to spend her final days witnessing to us, but she did, and tens of thousands of us are forever in her debt. Eternally in her debt, if you like God-math.

Kara took her final walk home last Sunday, while my family was down with the flu, Spring Break was starting with snow, and I was feeling about as low as I could go. This week has followed on theme: grey, cold, wet, and full of mucous.

But I made promises to Kara, and I intend to keep them:

(1) Kara asked us to continue to show up to our lives, because showing up matters.

(2) When the hard corners of our days press into us, we promised to look for Jesus. He will meet us in those hard corners, because suffering isn’t God’s absence in our lives: it’s our needingness of him.

(3) I promised to parent my children with Big Love and kindness, and to honor my marriage and my family with the type of Big Love Jesus has shown me.

(4) I will ponder the possibility that winning isn’t the story, but that finding beauty in the brokenness is the point of the story instead. I will turn away from the lie that winning is everything.

(5) I will lean into my days and look for God’s grace within them.

(6) I will join into the community Jesus has placed before me, because none of us were meant to walk alone.

(7) I will let my story be a safe landing place for others, and in so doing, my living can press people toward faith.

(8) I will be a better listener.

(9) I will ask my loves how their hearts are today?

(10) I will lean into God in my suffering and accept that he is not afraid of my bitterness or bad moods.

(11) I WILL SPEND MY HEALTH WELL.

(12) I won’t be ashamed when my eyeballs sweat.

Many of us have taken some time to weep for Kara and her loves this week. I will not be ashamed to cry for a woman I met one time, because her words have forever changed me. Since that cold night last November, I see Jesus all around me. Some days I’ve just gotten up, and said, “I’m here Jesus! Send me!” Every day, he does. The wild, colorful myriad of tasks he’s asked of me have filled me to overflowing. I can’t recall when I last felt this blessed and complete.

My new mantra is to whisper “I promise”, sprinkled throughout my day. When I tuck the girls into bed for the 3rd (ahem) time, I promise to show them Big Love. When Greg’s busy season requires a “little” flexibility on my part, I promise to show him just how safe and warm his marriage can be. When friends call, I listen for the unspoken needs, and I do my best to show up. I promise. When the flu is doing its best to kick my butt, but 3 young ladies need to get out of the house, I took a shower, and I taught them how to BOWL, whispering (through the coughing), “I promise”.  If Kara can raise 4 kids for 2.5 years on chemo, I can bowl for 2 hours. We had such a wonderful time, and I discovered God’s goodness is everywhere, even in the bowling alley. I promise, I promise, I promise. Big Love and Kindness.

All of these things, I promise to Kara. She was quite frank in telling us we wouldn’t meet again on this side of heaven, and then she proceeded to die with a grace and dignity society would like us to believe isn’t possible. But it is. More is possible outside of fear and shame than we can imagine. I hope to make her proud, so that when we do meet in heaven, I can tell her how I rewrote my story to reflect her teachings.

Her book, The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life’s Hard, is available on Amazon, and it’s the guide you need if you are interested in understanding Jesus’ role in your personal suffering. We all have pain, and there is such mercy to be found, if only we could see it.

Thank you Kara. Thank you for sharing your story, for selflessly spending your last days on earth writing it down for us, and helping us see there is so much more to this life than exists here on earth. Godspeed, Sweet Friend. Until we meet again…