Dear Sandy

A week ago I watched your mousy little figure sing in Winterton's local choir - a hodge podge of choristers all united in their love for music. 

You were a fascination to me. I know everyone else - there's Pam who sowed my last minute wedding dress in the space of 24 hours. There's Jen who has called me Sarah Bernhart from the moment I first appeared on stage at the age of six. There's BB whose birthdays messages for me on Facebook read more like prophetic poems. There's dear John who married me to my husband... every beautiful singing face tells a story from my life... except yours. 

After the rehearsal my mom told me a little about you. About how Shirl Stockil brought you into the kingdom of God many many years ago. So we had that in common. And how you have served Jesus with your entire being ever since that moment. I can't say I have been as faithful. 

I once found myself in a Godless country. One where the military men I was teaching were weeping with the need for Jesus. One begged me for a Bible. I was too afraid, the choking hold of penalty and punishment and never returning home should I assist this man in finding Jesus made me hide. 

In an even more terrifying Godless place you, however, read the Bible into the bugged light in your bedroom. You read the word of God into the ears of those clearly seeking to destroy you. And you survived to tell the tale. 

I know very little about you Sandy but this one story tells me enough to know that even fear of torture, imprisonment and death will not separate you from Jesus. 

I've had a rough week Sandy. I've been away from my family in an environment that was pretty stressful and overstimulating. On Friday night I had a panic attack because I was feeling so overwrought and in desperate need to go home. I battled to find God that night Sandy. But He came, as he always does and put me to sleep. 

You were murdered on Friday Sandy. 

I don't know you well enough to miss your grumpy, forthright face. I don't know you well enough to know that fashion really has never been your thing and that you feel that  sometimes the frivolities of being human detract us from being Christlike. 

But this I do know. I know that you have faced death more times than most. I know that death has not frightened you as much as people not knowing that there is life after death. I know that in your last moments you were probably sowing seeds into the ears of those who sought to destroy you. 

And most of all I know that Jesus was there, as He is always is, to put you to sleep so that you could wake up to His glorious eternity. 

I know where you are now Sandy with a surety that gives peace even though your death was  an abomination to the human spirit. 

Thank you Sandy. In your death you have reminded me that spiritual death is far worse than physical death. You have inspired me because I have no doubt that you are blazing in the light of your beloved now, without any of the sin and humanness of the world to stop you. You were brave for Jesus Sandy, in life and in death. 

And my prayer is that one day I too will have this in common with you. 

May God bless and keep you, His faithful servant Sandy.