Today I am trying to sort out how I’m feeling about the news that a friend has died. This friend has been part of my life for about twenty or more years, and although not real close, I counted her as my sister. But she was ever so much more than a sister. I don’t know if my words will be adequate to describe her.
I first met her when New Life Fellowship was still where Loaves and Fishes now is. I don’t remember too much of that, but later when we moved to the north end building, what I do remember was people saying that this lady would come to the building and spend hours walking about it and praying over every aspect of that Fellowship. At the time I thought it a little strange, but it would later prove to characterize her life.
Then when we started the fellowship at Potters Hands, this unassuming woman along with our daughter felt led to start a prayer time on Sunday evenings, and that prayer time is still going strong and I believe it to be the foundation of Potter’s Hands Ministries. At the same time, she became our daughter’s spiritual mother and is still.
It was at the kitchen where I really saw her true nature. At least two mornings a week she would be at the kitchen for the breakfast times and she would spend time with our clients. She wasn’t acting as an ambassador for Potters Hands; she would just sit with people and engage them in conversation or just listen as they rambled on. Often I would hear her laughter even if the jokes were extremely corny or even sometimes crude. What she ended up doing was making herself totally available to listen to their concerns and she would invite them into her room to pray with and for them.
In so doing, she became the spiritual mother to more people than any other person. Many would come to the kitchen only to be with her for prayer, and she never disappointed.
But the greatest affection that she had was for the native population. I’ve never seen a love so evident as this woman’s love for these people, and the beautiful part was they knew it and embraced it. Sometimes when she would speak about the concerns these people had, she would weep for them because they could not seem to embrace what was needed to make them whole. They would come to her sober or drunk, sometimes not even coherent but they could still request that she pray with them. She never tired of their shenanigans or deceptions, she just simply loved them.
Many were the times that she and I would speak about the different things that would concern us, and then we would pray about them. A lot of what I learned about prayer, I learned from her. Even if things were going on with her own body, she never spoke of them, because she was always busy dealing with the concerns of others.
Although she went by the name Lorraine Keegstra, I knew her as an extreme praying servant of our Lord Jesus Christ; a saint.
I love you Lorraine, see you soon.
Chris