August 29th, 2006, Fr. Luke's Eulogy - Page 2

Of course, her illness held many deserts and “valleys of the shadow of death” which often humbled her. In following the path of the saints, though, she was an astute learner who realized that the closer she drew to our Lord Jesus, the clearer she saw her own fears, faults, weaknesses and sins. She humbly learned many invaluable lessons from her illness. She describes in her inspiring journal her struggles with pride, self-righteousness, lack of understanding, immature desires, and life-long temptations. Yet, while honestly critiquing herself, she discovered in new and amazing ways the unconditional and divine love of God. She repeatedly emphasized that her hope to enter the eternal homeland came solely from God’s indescribable and unimaginable love, mercy and grace.

For me, one of the most illuminating characteristics that Lynette radiated throughout her 20 months of illness was her spirit of joy and gratitude. St. Paul writes that we are to “Rejoice always… and give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Thess 5:16,18) Archbishop Anastasios has said that the absence of gratitude is a clear sign of spiritual sickness and immaturity. Well, I’m not exaggerating when I say that at each stage of Lynette’s illness, and especially when the medical news went from bad to worse, her first words to me would always be, “Well, although the news isn’t good, still I thank God…”

She possessed the rare, yet divine, ability to see God’s hand at work in the midst of any and every situation. She held a deep rooted attitude of gratitude, understanding full well St. Paul’s promise that “Neither death, nor life… nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom 8:38) I heard Lynette thank God shortly after she discovered her cancer. I heard her thank God shortly after she learned that her cancer had metastasized. I heard her thank God shortly after the cancer entered her bones. And even in the last days of life, when she informed me that the cancer had entered her liver and the doctors gave her a few weeks to live, she still thanked God for the abundant grace she felt throughout her illness, for the love showered upon her by her beloved husband Nathan, for her precious children Tristan and Katherine, and for the countless friends from around the world who supported her with their love and prayers. She thanked God for the lessons of life she so vividly learned from the illness – lessons about God’s love, about herself, about her relationships with others and about so many other things. She even thanked God that He gave her the strength and grace to return to Albania, her adopted motherland, during her finals months of life, actively ministering in the youth camps up to her final days. To be honest with you, if I had not talked with Lynette so frequently, and witnessed the authenticity of her gratitude, I’m not sure I could have believed that it was so sincere.

Feeling the concrete presence of God, and living with this spirit of gratitude, gave root to one of the most visible signs of a true, living relationship with our Lord – that of deep, spiritual joy and peace. In the midst of illness, suffering and dying, with the temptation of fear and doubt ever lurking nearby, Lynette never lost that sense of deep, inner joy. Mother Teresa once said, “Never let anything make you forget the joy of our Risen Lord” and Lynette lived by this principle. The Prophet Nehemiah said, “The joy of the Lord is my strength” and Lynette found her inner strength from this joy of the Lord. As she wrote in one of her final diary entries, “Both Nathan and I feel ourselves overwhelmed by the amazing grace that God has given to us.  We could not be so joyful without his help….I am happy and feel a great sense of joyful anticipation at my home-going.  God is with us and will continue to be with us until the end.”

And such joy led to a deep inner peace. During one of her final days of life, my wife Faith and I sat around her bed, together with Nathan, her siblings and father, and other dear friends, singing hymns and reminiscing about Lynette’s legacy. In those final days and hours, Lynette radiated divine peace. At times, she would open her eyes and struggle to smile. Yes, she was dying, but simultaneously she dwelt securely in the peace of her Lord.

So much more could be said about what a gifted woman Lynette was. Her brother John half-jokingly said to me, “She’s the one in the family who got all the talent!” From her gourmet baking to her artistic crafts, from her creative St. Nicholas Day celebrations with which she entertained the children to her melodious and beautiful voice, from her humble, quiet, dignified demeanor to her compassionate outreach to the needy and poor, from her talents as a graphic artist to her becoming an author, from her model as a wonderful, tender Christian mother to her loving, supportive role as a devoted spouse – so much more could be said, but I think her beloved husband Nathan summarized it all when he wrote a few days before her death: “My eyes are full of tears as I write but I also have a strong sense of joy. The jewel which I have been privileged to hold a short time is slipping away from me, but I know that she will be held in far more worthy arms until we are reunited.  I am so blessed in these days by her joy and her faith and her love.  She is truly an icon of Christ to me.”

Although Nathan, Tristan, and Katherine will sorely miss their wife and mother during the days and years ahead, as will all her dear friends and family, yet still we all can find great comfort in the incredible witness she offered to so many throughout her life. She is not gone and dead. She is just physically absent. She now is dwelling with our Lord, watching over us and interceding for us with her motherly love.
Lynette, you may truly say, along with the Apostle Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  There is now laid up for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me, but to all who have loved his appearing.”  (2 Tim. 4:8)

May her memory be eternal and everlasting!