Today marks three years. Three years since my little sister Abby died in a car accident.
It is strange to be in Secluded, Mozambique during this time and not with family. However, rather than dwell and remember the day she died, my family comes together on her birthday—October 10th. Well, I was in Bolivia that day and my team had just changed and there just wasn’t a chance to stop and celebrate her. Later that week, as I emailed my mother I expressed that I felt almost guilty for this, like I had not honored Abby on “her” day.
But then I realized something: anytime I share my testimony (which is a lot on the World Race), I DO honor Abby’s life because hers had such a huge impact on mine. Her life and death led me to an intimacy with the Lord that I didn’t know possible. In a way, her life and death also led me to Secluded, Mozambique too.
It is very hard at 3 years now to realize that not many of my close circle of friends or even my circle of influence knew who Abby was during her short 21 years on this earth. So I will do my best to give you a glimpse of who she was:
Beautiful. Abby had the kind of beauty that began from the depths of who she was and shone from her eyes. The kind of beauty that made others feel beautiful, the worthless feel worthy, and the hopeless feel hopeful. The kind of beauty that was only possible because of Jesus inside of her.
Genuine. She was not afraid to be herself. Sure, she struggled with lots of insecurities but she did not let others decide her attitude. Her faith was so real that it drew others to God through her. She confidently stood strong for what she believed in.
Talented. She was good at pretty much everything she tried. She played soccer, volleyball and basketball and was a starter for all teams. She also led worship because she could sing, play guitar, piano or drums. She actually taught drum lessons too because she was that good.
Driven and intentional. Abby was always doing. She would work three jobs so that she could earn enough money to travel more. She did missions in Scotland, New Zealand, Fiji and Mexico. If she wasn’t doing missions, she would travel to go see all her friends she’d made around the world. She was so intentional about keeping in touch with friends and had many everywhere she went. But she was also intentional with the time she spent at home and had coffee dates set up for the entire week. People loved to be around her and wanted to know her.
I was and am so proud to call her my sister, my family.
I miss her daily.
I want to know what she would’ve been like now at age 24.
I want her to be in my wedding someday.
I want to be more intentional with the time I spent with her.
But I am slowly learning that she was God’s first, and even though he called her home much sooner than I was ready, I trust Him.
I trust that His ways are bigger than mine.
I trust that she was ready for Home and that He told her “Well done, my good and faithful servant” when she arrived.
I trust that “my heart and my flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Ps. 73:26)
I trust that “those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.” (Ps 126:5)
And so, I honor you today Abigail Bess. From your life I learned passion, sincerity and love. From your death I learned…and continue to learn…intimacy, identity and dependency on our Father.
I love you.
I miss you.
And I thank you for the legacy you left.
To Live is Christ,
Ruth
Me and Abigail in 2008 after my Furnace banquet
