Disclaimer: this post will have a more sentimental air than the rest of my entries, for a very good reason.
Most of you may not know, but Fivi is my younger cousin. I have watched her mature from a young girl into a beautiful young lady. And today, I look at her as a blushing bride, a wife.
For as long as I could remember, Fivi had a special aura about her. Fivi always carried herself differently than the average girls her age. She was (and still is) adventurous, yet graceful; hardworking, yet free-spirited. An all around wholesome young lady. Strength, I believe, has been her most beautiful quality though.
About eight or nine years ago, my father received a devastating phone call. It was news of Fivi’s father passing away. I was just a young girl myself, about fourteen years old, but remember that day vividly. We were all in shock, utter shock. A few days before his passing, my father, mother, brother, and myself visited their house. Upon greeting us, my uncle was laughing with such energy. During dinner time he even jokingly told my father that he would live to see a hundred. There wasn't a single warning that he would leave five young children and a beautiful wife behind.
So much of life happens in this realm of the unexpected. Life is precious. Life is also very short, mixed in with numerous twists and turns.
When I look at Fivi, I see a great deal of her father in her. In the midst of this pain and suffering, she has remained constant, clinging to the unmutable grace of Christ, laughing with her father's energy as she stands firm in the truth of the gospel. Her eyes reveal a story that carries much pain, but also much beauty. She has, and continues, to inspire me in many, many ways.