It was the beginning of December when I first “met” my friend. No one could have prepared me for the life changing reality that would come with knowing them. 

The first conversation we had was hours long. So many things came together as the history I had long lived but not been allowed to give voice to became reality. My story, our story, the story of so many, was not new to them. 

As we talked, we came to understand the depth of our connections. Not just because of our shared spiritual family of origin… Not just because of similar educational pursuits or the efforts to advocate for healthier ways of handling abuse within the structured religiosity… but somehow there were a million tiny threads of my past and future that connected in that conversation. 

We messaged periodically after that until they couldn’t anymore. A multitude of health problems and a terminal diagnosis was slowly becoming real. After a couple more times on the phone… suddenly the loss was looming. 

Now, I sit grieving. Not for them. Not even for myself. But for the loss to the church of our history and the world as a whole.

My whole lifetime, this crusader fought the demons that stole my childhood. And in the coming days and weeks the weight of loss will become more and more real. The responsibility of carrying on the fight cannot be buried, neither in the grave nor by grief. And so I press on, thankful to have been gifted the knowledge of much that has gone before to encourage me on my way. 

I don’t doubt that this person will slip into eternity quietly. The church may acknowledge the forward-facing side. It may honor the “ministry” in generalities and acceptable terms. Nothing of the larger efforts to live love out loud will be spoken officially. But that will not be the end. This story will be told in my life and mission, if nothing else. 

Your work will not be in vain, friend. Thank you for all you did. Thank you for who you are. Save me a seat and someday we’ll sit and have all the kinds of fudge we can imagine while laughing instead of crying.