“Be sure you make it back for the sunset,” she encouraged me. “You can watch it from the balcony right outside your room.”

Rhonda had invited me to be her guest at her favorite Bed & Breakfast in Fairhope, AL. She suggested I visit a couple of local places downtown to grab a yummy hamburger made with fancy meats (I think I had bison) and a Fairhope Float for dessert. But if I planned to walk, I should leave right away, because I would want to be sure I got back to the B&B for sunset.

Sunrise, Sunset

She was not wrong. I’d found it was generally a good idea to follow her advice. Later that evening, I sat on the balcony and sipped a glass of iced tea. My tummy and heart were full as I watched the beautiful sunset reflected on the water.

That reflection, no matter how many times I see it, no matter where I am, never fails to remind me of God’s faithfulness—his careful ordering of the days and seasons—in his creation and in my life.

I found myself singing one of my favorite songs from a favorite musical.

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

One Season Following Another

I was there to spend some time meditating on my own near the water. It was one of those days that holds a lot of memories—some sweet, some painful. I always try to be deliberate about how I spend it. I knew I’d be traveling, and Fairhope was on my way between destinations. It seemed like a good place to stop.

I’ll be forever grateful that I did.

Rhonda and I had walked through many seasons together. She’d been a teacher, a role model, a boss, a mentor, an encourager, a partner in crime and in ministry, and a dear, dear friend.

We’d gone our separate ways a few years back. Not splitting away from each other or either of us deviating from the work we’d done together. We’d just moved on to another season—with each of us called to different places to build something new after years of working together.

Rhonda’s beautiful blonde hair was gone. She wore a scarf on her head. She had cancer. It wasn’t good, but she’d had it before, and beaten it. I don’t know if I was in denial or just not very observant, but I felt certain she’d beat it again.

It turns out, I was wrong. This would be our last long conversation. I’d see her once again, but it would be brief.

I’m grateful I told her what she’d meant to me in all the different seasons we’d known one another. I thanked her for the gift she’d given me of a beautiful place by the water that day, and all of her generosity with time, encouragement, and opportunities in previous seasons over the years.

We caught up on our current season. We talked about our moms, our ministries, and her home in Fairhope and mine in Amazing Grace (the RV). We talked about how much we loved the new church homes we’d found.

I had been able to help her with some of her books in the past. In one season, I typed her notes for submission to her publishers. In another, we joined our efforts to put a cookbook together. In a later season, I contributed some devotionals and stories to a couple of her projects and got my first bylines in a published work. So, it was natural that when we started to talk about the future, she mentioned wanting to write about her fight with cancer. We talked about me typing it up in a booklet like the ones I’d been putting out for my speaking topics. It seemed doable. For this season.

One season following another. The privilege we have in the body of Christ of doing life and ministry together.

Laden with Happiness and Tears

Rhonda went to her forever home with Jesus a couple of weeks ago. She was a woman of many words, so it’s appropriate that many words have been written and spoken about her and her legacy over the last few years.

This is how it goes here on earth. We love and we live our lives together. Seasons pass. Eventually, one of us leaves our earthly home, and we grieve.

But one day, knowing and loving Jesus will become seeing him face-to-face, and we’ll be together again. We’ll live in his light and praise him forever.

Come Alongside

I’m not sure this blog post is about much of anything. Except to say that the years are flowing swiftly—with each sunrise and sunset. Let’s love each other well. Let’s say the things we want to say. And let’s make sure, as far as it depends on us, that we’re going to see each other again.