5 1/2 years ago, my life was a mess. I was crying 24/7. I was throwing up everything I was eating and I wasn’t sleeping. I was already on medication but that could only do so much. Finally, one of the leaders at my church took me to the beach and spent the day talking with me. She told me that she had made an appointment for me the next day with Donna Wilder, the head of our lay counselling program at church.

I walked into Donna’s office not expecting to be seeing her for the next two years. I told her my story and thought, “OK… this was nice. Now what?” At the end of the session, she told me that she wanted to see me again next week. I managed to show up and she became my therapist and helped me to work through so many of my issues.

She believed that therapy was her calling from God and there were many people she saw for free if they couldn’t afford her rates. I saw God’s faithfulness to her as people in the church supported her ministry and did things like pay for her vacation every year or do other anonymous things so that she could pursue her ministry. I was sad when I eventually stopped seeing her because I was graduating and moving on with my life. The last time I talked to her was before I flew home for Christmas when I was in seminary. It was after 9/11 and I was terrified to fly. She advised me on what to do and prayed with me.

This morning, I got an email from one of the adult leaders of my college fellowship telling me that she had died last Saturday. She had tumors on her brain and lungs and they had metasticized. She opted for no further treatment, went home, developed pneumonia, and died.

I know she’s in heaven and that the words “well done, good and faithful servant” apply to her but… I’m still incredibly ripped up right now and my day will probably be spent in tears.