Thank You, Dolly

 I slowly make my way up the familiar steps of my childhood church. While not my weekly home of worship anymore, there's something meaningful about this place and all the memories I have from the years I spent here. With the exception of a Christmas Eve service last December, the only thing that's been bringing me here for over a year has been the passing of old friends I knew from here. It's been the strangest thing - four fixtures in this faith community gone within fifteen months. I can't help but feel their absence from my life after such a long time. Even though I wasn't regularly spending time with most of these people anymore, I always looked forward to seeing them at special events or would find myself reminiscing about good times spent together in the past. But now, as I enter the church doors, I'm here yet again to say goodbye. This time to Dolly. 

Dolly was a unique one without question. I first met her when my family came to this church when I was about eight years old. She always sat two rows from the front, accompanied by her loving husband, Don. He was a man of few words and she a woman of many. He was the calming influence while she added the spice. Ask anyone who attended services with her and they'll remember her throwing her hands in the air and shouting, "Praise the Lord!" in the middle of any random congregational song. She had come from a hard background and met Jesus later in life, and it was her goal to spend whatever time she had left on the planet telling people about the goodness of God. She traveled on mission trips all over the world well into her sixties, passionate about introducing others to the Savior who changed her life. And the stories she had to tell of these adventures were always amazing. 

But the thing I remember most about her was her prayer life. Wow, could that lady pray! As a young girl who was still forming her concepts of what life with Jesus looked like, I have vivid memories of her praying for people that have stuck with me throughout my life since. See, back at that church they did something unique that I've always missed in other houses of worship in the years that followed: they had a set time of prayer requests and praises where people could stand up and share something with the congregation and, should you want prayer for a specific need or situation, somebody else in the church body would offer to stand up and pray for your need. So many times, Dolly would raise her hand to pray. And, when she started in, you'd better prepare yourself to be there quite awhile... because she would take her time bringing said person or matter before the throne of Grace. Almost every time, the prayer often ended with her in tears at the gift of being able to approach the God of the Universe she so deeply loved. 

More than the memories of her and Don coming over to our house for Easter lunch or Don's beautiful burial service out at the National Cemetery on the military base nearby or the countless other activities and gatherings we were together, those prayers echo in my spirit the most. And as I took my seat in that same church and looked over at where she used to sit and pray those heavenly petitions, I could hear her in my mind as that big voice would start, "Oh Lord..." Even in those early years of my life, Dolly's prayers made me want to know God that way. To talk to God with such confidence. To know and believe His love so deeply. To pray for others with that same conviction and passion. To worship Him with that exact abandon and sincerity. 

It would be well over a decade before I would begin to understand these things for myself that were such a part of Dolly's life or to even taste the closeness she had with God in my own spiritual journey but that image of that sweet grandma figure turning her face upward and her palms raised in surrender always remained a motivating picture to me of what a genuine relationship with God really looked like. Because, with Dolly, one thing was always certain: she never faked anything. You knew that connection between her and Heaven was real! As we sang some of her favorite praise songs during the service and the family shared memories through the years, I almost expected her to suddenly pop back in and let out a loud, "Hallelujah!" 

As we bid a final farewell to her on this side of eternity, there's just one thing I feel like I should say... 

Thank you, dear Dolly. 

Through all the years I faced my own doubts and fears and questions about God and the faith I struggled to make my own, I never forgot the example you set for me all those years ago of what simple faith and radical obedience looked like. I took those memories with me and began to ask God to give me even a fraction of what you had. While I will miss you greatly, I smile thinking of you dancing in Heaven and giving God the praise forever in a reality you spent the last half of your life dreaming about. That makes me happy because I know that all you hoped for for so long is finally true for you. And the rest of us look forward expectantly to joining you someday while we still continue the good work you sought to do here on earth. 

I am grateful for your testimony and your servant's heart and the walk with Jesus you lived so openly for so many years. Enjoy that perpetual worship service and being back with Don. I'm sure he was the first to greet you when you arrived. Rest now in glory, sweet friend. You will be missed.