When I Feel Closest To You

 My Dear Sis Vickie Davis, this week makes it a year that you passed from this earthly life and entered into your eternal reward. I came across a lady's devotional you had made during the pandemic.  I pushed play because I thought it would be comforting to see your beautiful face and hear your voice. It was more bittersweet. The pain was deep, and I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face. I am thankful for everything you taught me as well as many others. I am thankful for the wisdom and loved you poured out on so many. I'm thankful for the prayers you prayed for they live on. Can I tell you when I feel closest to you? It's when I'm cleaning the ministers' suites. I still remember you telling me to make sure I ironed the sheets. I will admit at first, I inwardly rolled my eyes (I'm sorry for that), but I paid attention because I wanted to please you and learn from you. I will never forget the day you called me from the church and asked if I could be your hands and feet because ALS made it difficult for you to go up the stairs to clean and a minister was on the way, and one had just left.  When I was done and showed you pictures of how it looked (ironed sheets included), you were so happy. You gave me the best hug afterwards. It was an honor to be loved and taught by you. It was an ever-greater honor to serve with, for and alongside you.  Oh, how I miss your hugs. Now, when I am given the chance to clean the suites and yes, I iron the sheets, I feel closest to you. I remember our conversations. I remember our prayer time together. I remember your kind rebuke at times made out of love because you want me to make it to heaven. I remember your hugs. I remember how much you made me feel welcomed and loved. You had a way of making people feel so special. How can it be that in a few days it will have been a year? Your legacy lives on in the many you poured yourself into. I miss you. I love you. Even on the hard days, God is still good.