Stories matter. We have to tell the stories of those who have walked before us so they speak even though dead. Their witness and testimony matter. You have stories that need telling in your community of faith.

Here is one such story.  

Evy Greenlee. Jesus. Alzheimer’s. Heaven.  

Evy died of complications from Alzheimer’s. She was in her mid-60s, and had fought this disease for over ten years. Her husband, Ed, and I served a number of years together as elders, and he is one of my best friends.  

But I want to write today about Evy. About why I love who she was and how she lived. And died. About why I was—and am—so proud of her.

You had to know Evy before she got sick to really understand her. She was always kind, sweet, and good. I know she was not perfect. No one is. But I never knew her to be anything but kind and sweet. And she would absolutely ask me not to write this last sentence. In fact, she wouldn't want me to write about her at all. Because her life was never about her.

Evy's life was about Jesus first. Her husband will tell you there were some rocky years in their early marriage. He will also tell you that they survived them because Evy believed in Jesus.  She helped Ed to get his focus set on Jesus, too. She spent years teaching children to love God. She coached Bible Bowl for years. A lot of people know a lot of Bible because of Evy.

Her family mattered. She and Ed were a great elder couple. That's really how my wife Marsha and I got to know them well: by shepherding together. She was a great role model for younger wives and moms. She raised three strong girls. I have seen and heard what they said about their mom after she died. Every one of them referred to her faith and to seeing her again someday in heaven. That's a legacy.

And you could see her faith when she couldn't process it herself. When she couldn't communicate. Alzheimer’s is cruel that way. Your mind and body can't get out what is in your heart. Eventually you are not even aware of what is really going on around you. But I do think you can see the real person inside of this illness.

And here is what you saw with Evy.

Sweet to the end. She spent her last few years in a memory facility. She was nice to everyone. Hugged on people who looked sad. Smiled. When groups would come sing hymns, there was Evy singing along from some place deep inside her. Lots of little "loving Jesus" and "loving people" acts that did not come out of obviously conscious thought. They came out of a lifetime spent doing those things. It was who she was.

And it is who she is. Because of Jesus. We prayed a lot for Evy's healing. And it finally happened. Not in this life in the arms of her husband. But in the arms of Jesus. She is more fully her and more truly home than she ever could have been here.

That inspires me. Evy always helped me see Jesus. Even more so when she couldn't verbalize it or even understand anything.  

That is how I want to live. And die. Pointing the way to Jesus.

So: thanks, Evy. We'll love on Ed and your girls. And we will see you again.