It's Okay Now

God is bigger. He’s always been bigger; He’ll always be bigger.
I have to believe it. I have to.

Amy.

I met Amy in 2003 over the phone. She was a speaker for the company that I worked for and was one of the most genuine, lovable Texan beauties I had ever known. Within three fast minutes, we were life-long friends and within three fast months I had only begun to realize the impact she was having in so many lives.

Her Story.

I remember the first time Amy told me her story as we sat in a restaurant overlooking the Boise city streets. A former beauty queen, passionate speaker, heartfelt friend and the biggest giver I’d ever known, I never imagined I’d hear of the tragedy that had colored her life.  From losing her father to losing her husband, pain was not a foreign concept for my dear friend.  Yet, as she told me her story with tears on her cheeks and hope in her eyes, I was once again in awe of the kind of woman that sat before me.

Continuing in her story, she told of her moment of breakthrough when her life began to take shape again. She declared with quiet boldness the verse that had granted her sleep and set her on a firm foundation once again:

“For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans for good and not for evil, to give you a hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

With those words Amy moved forward and quickly found herself presenting her message before large audiences.  She shared the stage with Heads of States, but her most treasured moments were in ministry as she spoke to battered and bruised women in shelters.

Shocking.

When I moved to Dallas in August of 2007, Amy was the first to greet me, bubbling with excitement and plans.  Our working friendship was over but our real-life friendship had continued.  Her life was full, her joy overflowing and her lasting touch in the lives of people glimmered with the fruit of a life well lived.

So one can imagine my utter shock when I heard the news.  As I was preparing for a women’s conference at my church one spring day, I ran into the grocery store to grab an apple and unexpectedly ran into my friend Jay who I had also worked with during the time when I met Amy.  We caught up very quickly and then he told me of Amy’s fall on stage the week prior and the tests that produced evidence of kidney cancer.  Stage IV.  Terminal.  Nothing can prepare you for a moment like that.  Amy was 41.

God is Bigger.

I hate cancer. It’s an evil disease that seems to cast its sites on the most unsuspecting, precious people.  Yet, my faith was sure and I had a bold confidence that “God is bigger.”

In the days that followed I spoke with Amy and we began to plan the next time we’d meet and catch up.  I asked her how to pray and she told me to pray as I always had and to pray for healing.  I told that I would and I did. With tears streaming down my cheeks and hope in my eyes, I asked the Lord to heal my friend.

Last year, after a 2-month battle with cancer, Amy went to be with Jesus.  A couple of days before she passed away, while at a fundraising dinner for the ministry she had founded, she sent a message:

“Whether in my life or in my death, God will be glorified.”

I remember her telling me a long time ago how she wasn’t afraid of painful things happening to her anymore, because she had seen what God had done for her out of the most horrible tragedies she could have imagined for herself.  She had given her life to the One who had rescued her so many years before, so to her, there was no fear.

Celebration.

Many tears streamed down many faces in the days that followed, but it became so clear that the ministry she had founded was booming with the radiant faces of lives that had been changed as the girls declared the redemption that they had each experienced in their own lives.

I’ve known a lot of people in my life, but if one day I remotely resemble the radiance of Amy, then I will be honored. She was driven, yet soft, passionate and hopeful. Yet, most of all, she had experienced first hand what it was to be loved by God and rescued by His hand.

Tough theology.

I have more faith in God’s healing power today than I have ever had.  Yet, it’s hard to understand cancer. It’s hard to understand healing. But as my friend Jill said at the funeral, “I can just hear Amy in heaven now… ‘You’re never gonna believe this!’”  If anyone is going to love heaven, it’s Amy.  She just beat us there.

Yes, God is bigger than cancer. I’ve seen him heal many people.  God is also bigger than my theology and my understanding.  I’ll miss Amy. But in her death, my eyes were opened to where God was calling me.  On the day she passed away, I wrote in my journal: “Okay, Lord. I’ll do all that you called me to, everything I’m afraid to do.  I’ll do it because I know that she was afraid too.  But she did it… in half the time.”

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Amy Jones, author of book: Twice As Much In Half the Time.

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