March 2020

On March 7, 2020, I stowed my suitcase on the wood floor, close to the daybed. Sparkling diamonds of fading afternoon glory danced off the rippling water captivating my attention tri-directionally, mesmerizing my thoughts and the musings of my soul. I paused and drank deeply of the scenery. This enclosed porch on the lake was my bedroom for the next three days in Hendersonville, N.C. for a special regional gathering. A question burst from my heart, “How did I get so fortunate?” Little did I know the world would be rapidly transforming in unimaginable ways from this point forward.

Nations were shifting in response to Covid 19. We contemplated, should we take another road trip to visit friends in S.C. before returning to Jacksonville, FL as spring break had been extended an additional week? Quickly the answer to that question became a firm, “No!”

As if waking in the Twilight Zone, The grocery shopping habits of Americans quickly became nerve rattled pressure to score provisions. It could be likened to an athletic event, requiring strategy, flexibility and endurance. I love to walk and walk quickly, so the thought of lines crawling snail paced patterns in and out of store aisles kept me at a distance, until it could no longer be avoided. We stood outside the popular store chain, Publix. The store hours of operation had just been adjusted overnight. We awkwardly tried to judge proper social distance. One thing I noted was there was a jovial and slight sarcastic bent in the air. For all of our American creature comforts, people were in a good mood. When the store opened we all bottled necked, momentarily through the entrance. Ten minutes later, toilet paper and paper products sold out! I was happy to grab the last package of paper towels as requested by my 86 year-old mother, who had recently fallen and broken her pelvis. How did normal chores become so surreal?

As I was exiting Publix that day, March 21st, bits and pieces of life, and death proceeded as previously scheduled. A text alerted me to the painful reality that a beautiful, faithful friend, Marchelle McMillan would soon be flying to heaven due to complications from fighting cancer. If grocery shopping had been otherworldly, so was my approach to the Beaches Baptist Hospital. Digesting the news had shifted me into shock. Not a living soul was stirring outside as I parked the car. I shouldn’t have gotten that text. Normally I would have been still on the beach jogging, but today was the first day the beaches had been closed. I chose to help my Mom and that had me available for the communication that brought me here.

I wondered if this was all just a bad dream. I wished it was. I walked around the buildings to the only marked entrance. A cop and a nurse, both male, waited under a white tent. They asked me why I was there. My whispered response came, “I think my friend is dying.” They took my temperature. They asked me questions about my health, new protocols for safety. I expected to be denied entrance. Miraculously they permitted entry inside. I thought I would see family and friends already gathered, I was wrong. Again, I answered questions. Again, I assumed I would be held up, instead I was given an escort to open doors leading through empty hallways. It was all so strange.

I ended up in ICU minutes after Marchelle’s death. Alone with just the nurse, I held my friend’s hand. Tears filled my eyes and began to fall as I told the nurse just what kind of person Marchelle was, “She is the salt of the earth. Always full of joy and encouraging others. So beautiful. I can’t explain it. When we would visit her in the hospital, we would be there for her, but we always left more filled with hope and life then when we entered. How is that possible? That is the kind of person Marchelle is.” Tears filled the nurses eyes.

I was privileged to sit beside her daughter, Rachel. I sat there. What more can you do? Many things were transforming, but heaven would not be denied her Momma. Shock, and grief radiated throughout my body. Rachel asked all those reasonable questions that emerge in such circumstances. The wake and funeral would not proceed in a timely manner. All would be delayed as the world waited for stability to return. My heart broke in shattered pieces to be with this lovely woman that would continue to breathe without her Mom. My only comfort was to realize, several days later awakening from my haze, that Marchelle would truly receive her reward for her life lived for Christ. Forever and ever she would be honored and rewarded. A purveyor of life, and joy, and hope, her legacy will linger for decades on Earth. So many individuals touched by her life. Encouraged even as she fought for hers.

I have few answers to all these happenings. I feel deeply a world wide reset is upon us. I believe much good will come of this. However, that in no way lessens the loss and pain, grief and sorrow people are actually experiencing. I have learned though personal trials to always search for the treasure. Time after time, I have found it! Thus, the subject matter of this blog, Broken but Beautiful.

Marchelle knew a hope and a friendship that transcends this world. She knew Him and her trust was in His gift of eternal life. She made Him proud, “Well done good and faithful servant.” I leave you with the last verse she sent me: Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial because when he has stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love Him. James 1:12

March 2020 has been a month that will live in infamy. Tumultuous for sure! As a way to encourage each other, please leave in the comments of this blog, the treasure you have discovered thus far.