When I was in first grade a new family moved to Mt. Pleasant, Michigan and decided to start attending the same church my family attended, and to send their kids to the same school that my sister and I attended, where my dad also taught. This family had four kids--their oldest son was in my class, followed by his brother, their younger sister who was the same age as my sister, and the littlest sister, following several years behind, only a baby really when we all first came together.
This was how we met the Koefoeds.
It may come as a surprise that as a child I was slightly competitive--in a subtle way: I was competitive about school. Not to brag, but kindergarten was kind of a breeze for me. And first grade was going fairly well too, until this family moved into town. Suddenly I had competition. Over the course of first, second, and third grades Jonathan Koefoed remained my chief competitor in the race to finish tests the fastest, to get the best grades on our homework, to earn the most extra credit points. It was a friendly competition, of course, and one I would never have admitted to, for those of you who know me well will recognize that I do not claim to be competitive when there is a chance that I could be beaten.
For three years my family and the Koefoeds were close friends. Jonathan and I had our ongoing contest in school, Rebekah and my sister Becky became the best of friends, and whenever Becky and I spent the night at their house, Daniel and Jonathan would both pretend that they didn't want to play with us girls, but inevitably they couldn't resist. We went trick-or-treating together, stayed over at each other's homes, ate meals together, played in the snow together, rode in their station wagon, jumped off cushions in their family room together.
After third grade my family ended up moving to Grand Rapids, about 2 hours from our previous home in Mt. Pleasant--a distance small enough to keep us connected to our old friends. I remember going to visit on weekends and holidays, hanging out with the college kids that Scott and Sally Koefoed ministered to, feeling really cool as a fifth grader.
Over the years my parents have kept in touch with Scott and Sally, although neither Becky nor I have maintained our former friendships with their kids. My mom used to show me the family photo they sent each Christmas after we moved down to Illinois, and though the kids all got taller, they still looked the same, and I think I will forever see them at the ages they were when we last turned their living room into a couch-cushion fortress.
Memory has a way of tricking us into believing things don't change.
Which is why it came as such a shock to find out that Sally Koefoed had cancer.
It feels strange to be so affected by news of someone you haven't seen or communicated with directly in years; someone who at one point was a major player in your life. My parents always talk about trying to drive through Mt. Pleasant on their way up to my mom's house in Canada, and somehow it has never worked out, up until about two weeks ago when my mom finally got through to Scott and arranged to stop and see him and Sally on her last trip up to Canada.
She is so thankful that she did that, especially since I called her today to let her know that Sally died last night.
I couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes as I read the last update posted by Scott letting their family and friends know of Sally's passing. She was an amazing woman of faith--they were an amazing family of faith, really--and her confidence in God, even after the trauma of her cancer, was evident in the peace she felt at going to sit at the feet of Jesus. I have no doubts that Sally is being loved this very moment by the Savior to whom she was so faithful.
I look at myself in light of people like Sally, and think how far I have yet to go. My faith is so shakeable, weak, selfish at times. Hers never was. I believe that the brief period of time I knew her impacted my own development; that knowing her kids played some part in my growing up process; that one person can leave a legacy that will outlive their physical presence. And I believe that the world is different because of Sally Koefoed.
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3 comments:
A couple of years ago my grandfather's best friend Fred died. Through a surprise twist of fate Fred and his wife Alice had a daughter my age so whenever I would spend the summer with my grandparents I would always hang out with Chris their daughter. I always loved Fred because he had the same odd sense of humor I had and somehow that affirmed to me that it was ok and not something I should hope to grow out of. He was a dedicated Christ-follower and devoted family man. Over the years I had less and less interaction with his family but his passing was surprisingly impactful to me so I can totally relate.
Thanks for the reminder and we are all better off for the people who allow their lives to touch others in such a gracious and amazing way.
This post absolutely brought me to tears. Sally was one of the most amazing people I've ever met. She gets "it." She was my leader on the hospitality team at the Young Church - I'll never forget one of our meetings where she actually got down on her knees and washed each one of our feet and told us what she appreciated about us. And then she prayed for each person. It was such a beautiful thing to be a part of.
And I just love that Sally (and the rest of the Koefeds) is one of the many things that connect us, Charissa. We are both very lucky to have known her.
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