Dying Well

     I just heard the news that our dear friend Lynn Chynoweth has stepped across the threshold between the last chapter in the book of her life here on earth with her husband John, and into a whole new book called Heaven.  And unlike the book of her life here which had a very specific number of pages that were determined long before she was born, the pages and chapters of this new book will continue to be written forever.  What is Lynn experiencing right now?  Is she talking to Jesus? What is He saying to her?  Is she running to meet the very first person she's always imagined talking to -- maybe Moses, or Paul?  I can't imagine what it must feel like for Lynn to realize that she's really free from pain - and she can talk, and sing, and do all the things her tortured body couldn't do for such a long time.  What is she thinking about John and her boys?  Can she see them right now?  Can she feel their pain and grief?

Heaven is a real place; Jesus is a real person;  and Lynn is really THERE.  Wow - it's hard to imagine.

Lynn has been in incredible, intense pain due to the rapid spread of the cancer throughout her body.  Only a week or so ago the doctors informed she and John that Lynn had 3-6 months to live - and today she's already gone.  It almost seems like Lynn was in a hurry to go - not to leave her family, but just to hit fast forward and skip the nightmare of pain she was facing.

     I knew that Lynn was suffering greatly, and John & their two boys with her.  Because I don't sleep much at night, I often found myself awake in the wee hours of the morning, praying for John and Lynn.  When I heard the news of the last prognosis, I changed the way I was praying for them:  I started to pray that God would fill Lynn's heart with an incredible excitement and anticipation about getting to Heaven, so much so that all fear would be banished from her mind.  I also started to pray that God would fill John, Jim and Mike's hearts with an incredible, unexplainable peace to let her go.  I just read the last two entries that John wrote in their "Caring Bridge" journal, and I trust he won't mind me quoting him here:

Yesterday (Saturday) afternoon:

"Lynn is resting more comfortably.  She's quiet, no longer speaking. The finish line is in sight and she's fading from this life, preparing for the next.  Her heavenly Father is standing at the finish line with open arms, the Holy Spirit is filling her with courage and the heart to complete the race well, Jesus is holding her hand leading her on cheering, "I am with you always."  He's looking over His shoulder and has assured me that "I am with you always too!"  There's a comfort in my soul knowing He alone can heal my wounded heart and be the joy, love and courage I need for this last season of the race.  The world feels like it is shaking and shifting.  Be still my soul, take courage - your heart is anchored in the holy of holies in the presence of the Father, held safe and sure by Jesus.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!"

And early this morning:

"About 9:45 Saturday night, Lynn leapt across the finish line into the arms of her Heavenly Father.  No more pain, no more sorrow  - finally whole, radiant and joyous.  Her family and friends were around her, singing, "Be thou my vision..."  as she completed the race.

We're numb, shattered hearts and yet our soul is anchored by the firm foundation of Jesus, the author and completer of our faith.  I remember Lynn and celebrate a life well lived.

With hearts surrendered to His eternal purposes,

John" 

I wept as I read John's words, because I cannot imagine how I would feel having just lost Daphne.  But it seems like my prayers were answered.

 

I have watched John and Lynn walk this road of suffering with courage, faith and hope.  Yes, I know there were many dark and confusing times - how can there not be when you've gone through chemo and radiation for so long?  But even in the midst of life's most terrible trials, there is a deep, sweet aroma of Jesus that just "hangs" around people like John and Lynn.