Janet

My friend Janet is very courageous. She stands opposite the glaring eyes of injustice. But justice has nothing to do with it when it's family. There is no law or rule at stake, but merely the bond of blood. Human against human. Brother against sister. Yet it seems unjust, inhumane, and absurd.

Tomorrow she will come to work, most likely dressed in a Christmas sweater with a festive pin and a deliberate smile... a genuine one.



She should be going to her father's funeral. She should be dressed in black, with her hair neatly combed and groomed for the reading of the eulogy she carefully prepared. "Beautiful words" her friend called them. She should be in the presence of family and friends remembering and celebrating the life of the man she called daddy.


The blizzard came yesterday. The airport closed at 1:00pm, only to be opened again days after the scheduled funeral. All roads leading to Denver are closed. This blizzard is big. We prayed the wind would stop, but it didn't. She left work early on Wednesday, just after our Christmas potluck to try her luck at the John Wayne Airport.

We arrived this morning to find Janet at her desk, typing diligently at the computer. There was a box of Smith's donuts on the table, and a small jug of 1% milk in the fridge. Janet brought the staff breakfast.

Her brothers won't postpone the funeral so their sister can attend. We'll miss you, they say, but their words are empty. We can't change the date, they argue, someone might show up at the church and nobody will be there. Sorry. The blizzard roars 1100 miles away and the funeral must go on.



Everything will go as planned, as Janet planned. People will be in their places, scriptures will be read, the casket will be viewed... Janet planned it all. She and her father discussed it as he was dying. She was close to her dad.

The meticulously planned arrangements will commence at 10:00am in Colorado. Just as planned, minus the blizzard. But who can control the weather? Besides, the blizzard is mild compared to the storm which chills her family.



These are her chains. She wears them because she is faithful. She suffers but she believes. The Gospel is poured into this precious daughter of the King... her outflow speaks of nothing else. Jesus is her king and her heart is obedient. The command to forgive is the cross she carries. And when she is not strong enough it is carried for her by the body of Christ itself. And Christ is glorified.

This woman, this very courageous woman who does nothing but give, will find peace tomorrow in her Father's arms. She won't be present at the funeral tomorrow, but God has other plans and Janet knows this.

She told me so as I ate the Christmas frosted donut she brought this morning.