89 Strong

Today my mentor in the Lord went home to be with the lover of her soul...Jesus.

Fifty-five years my senior, Marjorie Rothschild exuded nothing less than joy, passion, strength, hope, and steadfast BIG faith for anyone who had the honor of knowing her.

I sit here crying not because she has left this world but because this world will never be the same without her. She has left her mark on anyone she ever encountered.

I hesitate to even try to describe her and her amazing attributes for I feel I will utterly fall short of all that God displayed through her life. But I will try because I got to be a recipient of much encouragement, hope, and grace throughout the years.

We all knew her by this enigmatic smile that lit up her entire face and a steady walk that seemed unshakable. I have never known anyone who loved her Lord more. She delighted in Him every second of every day. She seemed giddy and excited at any and every opportunity to come before Him in prayer.

I can just picture her lifting her wrinkled face upwards as she would go into her prayer closet (ringing her bells) completely confident in the One who she called Savior.

Anyone who met her would be appalled to learn her age because she acted and lived like she was 25 to 30 years younger than what she really was. She had a cell phone, e-mailed her friends and family, and even joined Facebook. The vibrancy with which she lived her days was nothing short of mind blowing. It was as if each step she took had purpose and meaning. People were drawn to her like bees to a hive of honey. She oozed kindness, joy, and compassion. But my favorite of all of her traits was her FAITH.

It was her life.

She prayed like it would move mountains. Because she believed it would.

She is one of the very few people who has believed with me about Caroline's healing since her birth. I still treasure a card she sent me when Caroline was just months old. She was claiming and believing then just as she was as she drew her last breath. She was fierce about it. She would rally to my side any time she saw the slightest change in my demeanor. She could tell if I was struggling and she would immediately speak hope and faith to me. More than that....she would pray on my behalf. There is no telling the hours that she has spent interceding on my behalf.

I remember giving her an ultra sound picture of Zeke when he was in my womb. The doctors were concerned that he possibly had Downs Syndrome because he showed some strong indicators. She immediately wanted to add him to her daily prayer time and she wanted a picture as a reminder. She put it to her heart (most likely pinned to her bra strap) and kept it there until he was born. I remember when she gave it back to me after he was born....it was soft, faded and worn away from being inside her shirt all those months. Wow. What a woman!

Just a month and a half ago she got to come see Caroline get baptized. It was such a joyous occasion. Marje was so thrilled to see her girl. She would always say that she and Caroline had their own secret language. I had no clue that Sunday morning that the next time I saw her would be in a hospital bed...and it would be my last.

In early November I got a call from her daughter telling me that Marje had cracked several vertebrae and was in immense pain. They were gonna do an outpatient procedure to fix the problem. However, that never came to pass because during the procedure the doctors found cancer. She was already in stage 4 and the cancer had spread.

I knew I needed to go see her in the hospital and I am so glad I went when I did. My dearest friend, Deana, went with me. She too has been so blessed by knowing Marje. We entered her hospital room and her daughter told me that she may not be awake or know me.

I went as close as I could and grabbed her hand. She looked so frail. I hated it. I hate death. I wanted her to be the Marje I knew. She was always completely fixed up. Her hair would be done...make-up exact....and matching jewelry would be dangling. But this was real life and it was her life drawing to a close.

I leaned down and whispered her name. She jolted a bit when she heard my voice and then she said, "Oh, Andrea!"

I told her that Deana and I were there and we loved her and we wanted to pray for her. Her next phrase makes it very clear as to why she was my mentor. She said, "Please pray that the Holy Spirit would help me make it through this season and that I would glorify Him!"

Of course I began to cry and cry. Oh what faith and resolve.

Deana and I prayed over her through our tears and sniffles. We asked God to give her strength and special delights during her last days. She wanted to stay strong until God took her home. She desired to honor him even in the midst of her unending pain. She had complete confidence in her best friend, the Holy Spirit. She knew that He would be with her every single step of the way.

That is dying well ya'll.

That is the way we should all strive to live and die.

Knowing that the Holy Spirit is our guide and trusting Him in the most vulnerable moments of our lives.

Her legacy will live on in me and countless others I am sure. I pray that I can touch others and infuse them with the same hope, passion, and faith that she has affirmed in me. Isn't that our calling, after all???

A couple of verses that I memorized this year seem very fitting to end this post about my mentor, Marjorie Rothschild. She embodied this piece of scripture to the very end.

May I do the same...


"Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." Romans 12:11-12