Friendships are funny things. People come into our lives, and sometimes, for who knows what reason, we get to be invited into someone else’s life for a season. I have not been able to nail down why certain relationships become deeper friendships and others not, other than the fact that one person makes a random choice to take things a bit deeper. I know that each friend I have made over the years has brought me some special gifts, just because of who they are and the revelations that they carry. I have come to believe that each person is like a ship with hidden treasures, that can only be shared with those that take the time to stop and come aboard.

A friendship can last a few weeks or a few years, and if we are lucky, it can last for decades. Last week one of my decades-long friends went on to be with Jesus, and have this strong sense that I have to write down what I love about her and what I learned from her now, because memories fade with time. And I know that even though now I can clearly remember her hands, her iconic hugs and her voice, I know that those memories might fade over time, and I want to make sure that I don’t forget the lessons that she left me with.

I met Wou-Mari when I was 19 and I am about to turn 38, so this is literally a friend that was there for all of my adult life. I met her while we were studying theology together in Wellington, and she remained a deeply loved friend, even though we rarely lived in the same province (or country) for long after the first 2-3 years of our friendship.

Just FYI, I don’t believe in making a habit of speaking to people after they have died, but I won’t go into that theology here today. But I know I have a few things that I have to say, and I am struggling to find the words when I don’t talk in the first person, so I am writing this letter to her in first person, because I hope it will help myself and others process some of our grief. So here goes…

A letter to my friend Wou-Mari, as we celebrate a life well lived

Wouie, this week when I click on the search bar on my Facebook your name is at the top of the list even before I start typing, because I have searched for your name too many times this week, just hoping that I am imagining all of this. I kept thinking this can’t be real, even while I was driving to your funeral today. It felt fitting to say goodbye to you in Kleinmond: driving the same road that I used to drive to visit you in Sandbaai, and having your life celebration so close to the ocean that you loved, and the VCSV campsite where we had our orientation/debrief with those teambuilding exercised on the beach…

You have been one of my favourite people on the face of the earth since I met you, and I have learnt so many things from you that have marked my life forever. You were a treasure trove of wisdom, and I am so glad that when we met, we did not just pass one another , but that we stopped to share our lives with one another.
I don’t think that I told you all of this when you were here with us, so here is a lists of some of the things that I love about you:

• You seized the day, every day. I have heard many people use the phrase “Carpe Diem”, but you lived it. You knew that every day after you won your first battle with cancer was a gift, and you determined to make the most of it. You squeezed more life out of these 24 or so extra years that you were given than most people get out of 70 years: not because you forced anything, but because you were present. You danced, you made jokes, you laughed and you were always ready for another adventure.
• You knew how precious time was, more than any of us did, but yet you were not rushed. You could sit and drink coffee for hours, and know that that simple act of love had changed the world enough.
• You embodied hospitality. Not necesarily because of a love for entertaining people or elaborate parties, but because you slowed down and invited people into your presence. I have met very few people that could listen with as much presence as you did. The measure with which you loved and accepted people to fully and truly be themselves without judgement, created a space where people could find their voice and let their guard down.
• You spoke the truth. Proverbs says “faithful are the wounds of a friend”: I always knew that you would challenge and correct me, because I was loved. You would tell me the truth about what you were seeing in my life, and there was a safety in that. I knew I would never be judged by you, and I knew you believed the best of me, and that made me willing to listen to your correction.
• You were a servant at your core. You could definitely speak to a crowd or take charge of a situation, but you didn’t need the limelight to know that you were making a difference. You were content holding a friends’ baby and taking care of things behind the scenes, and this work enabled so many people to rise up and do the work that they were called for. You didn’t look for glamour, you lived for glory.
• You didn’t let anyone dictate what your life should be like: you followed your conviction and danced to the beat of your own drum. You lived an unconventional life, moving across continents and doing such a wide array of jobs, but in all of this I believe you were submitted to Jesus, and He used you where He needed you. You didn’t back down from anything. I laughed out of my belly today when it was said that you were Head of Rugby at an all-boys school, because that’s so you: uniquely up for any challenge.
• You gave freely: I still remember all the times you brought back Harrods Strawberry tea from England because you knew I loved it. You freely gave your attention, gifts, and even money. I am so thankful that you reached out a couple of months ago to bless me with money for a mission trip when you saw I was selling cauliflower and you knew that would never fund a whole trip. I am not just thankful because it made that trip possible, but because Jesus knew how precious it would be to me to just have a last few conversations with you, and to have a few voice notes stored on my phone so that I could hear your voice again. He knew you wouldn’t need that money earthside, and I am so thankful that you listened to Him nudging your heart.
• You knew that time is not guaranteed for any one of us. You knew how fragile life is, and yet you shared your time and your life so freely. You knew that the thing that has real meaning is loving people and loving Jesus with all you’ve got.
• You were the greatest cheerleader. You celebrated the victories of others and honoured people in every way possible, and also encouraged people when walking through failure and heartache.
• You celebrated people in their uniqueness and didn’t compete with anyone. You were confident in who you were, and you didn’t back down from a challenge. You showed met that people don’t need someone that is like them to love them, they just need someone to love them just as they are.

I am dedicating this first of my official blogs to you, Wouie, because your final gift to me is the reminder that life is short, and we need to do the things that are on in our heart with conviction, because we never know how much time we have left.

Thank you for loving us well and pouring yourself out as a drink-offering. I know you were not perfect, but my life is marked by heaven because of you, and I am only one of MANY….

May your legacy live on in us.

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