Ode to Murph or Reflections on Easter

For the last few days I have been trying to wrap my mind around the death of my friend, just like the other family and friends of Jennifer Marie Murphy Martz. It feels inconceivable that this beautiful friend, daughter, woman, mother should not be in the world anymore. As I pondered this reality, I was struck by a verse from Romans 12:2.
"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is, His good and pleasing and perfect will."
I believe with all my heart that Murph (that was her nickname) was one of the transformed, and not patterned of this world. She was not perfect, as God does not expect perfection from us. He simply wants us to seek his will for our lives through study, prayer, worship and action. She certainly did all of these things. You can see the fruits of her endeavors simply by looking at her children. I cannot speak to all the ways she blessed her church, her community, her family as I didn't know her in those capacities, although every time I spoke with her after the birth of her children she gushed about them and I could tell they were the loves of her life. I can only reminisce on my own memories of her and how she touched my life.

The first time I met Murph was on January 11, 1992, our bid day at Southwestern University. Like me, she ran out into the courtyard of the dorms to a mass of happily singing sisters. We had just finished rush week and had made our selections as well as the sororities had made theirs. We were greeted with shouts and cheers as we indicated that we would accept an ADPi bid and become a part of that sorority. I knew a few of the girls in my pledge class, but had never met some of them. Little did I know that some of those sisters pledging with me that day would change my life forever. Jennifer Murphy was one of those sisters. One thing that drew me to her right away was her ability to laugh. We had so many tasks ahead of us that semester, with learning all we could about the sorority so that we could become full members, not to mention classes still! Study hours and meals together were strongly encouraged so we saw LOTS of each other. I can remember many meals in the upstairs commons with her just laughing and laughing. She took the role of "big sister" to everyone in our class very quickly. Having trouble in a class? Chat with Murph. Bad break up with a boyfriend? Go cry with Murph. Advice on who to ask to such and such event? Seek counsel with Murph. Struggling with spiritual issues? Pray with Murph. She was always that girl that made you feel so special and so important when you were with her. I never remember her being to busy to spend time with any of us.

I can remember distinctly the day that she told me she was going to study abroad for a semester. I couldn't imagine SU without Murph. I moped the whole semester, I think. I knew she was having a wonderful time, from her letters, but I counted down the days until she returned. I can remember her coming to surprise me in my dorm room. We hugged and danced and screamed as we rejoiced! Then I had a startling moment a few nights later, when I heard a knock at my door and in walked Murph with a very large pair of scissors in her hand. "If you don't cut my hair RIGHT NOW," she said, "I am going to cut it myself!" Evidently, she had not had a haircut the whole semester abroad and she was at the breaking point with it. I assured her that she was making a terrible mistake. I had long STRAIGHT hair and I had no idea how to even begin to brush curly hair, much less cut it! I warned her that I had never cut anyone's hair before, not even my own bangs. I tried to talk her into waiting the next day, as I had a good salon to recommend, but she would not relent and I could tell she meant business, so into the bathroom we went. I cut her hair to the best of my abilities and the next day we both laughed hysterically when someone complimented her on her new haircut. She never asked me to cut her hair again, but we both just knew I had saved her from a very bad self cut!

We spent many nights hanging out at the Pike house together. She was so encouraging to me when I started dating a boy named Chris. She assured me that he was a great guy and that he would NOT break my heart. She was so wise. Four years later, she watched as I married that guy. I couldn't imagine making our vow before God without her there to celebrate with us. She and Walt brought their new little baby, Jorden, who stole everyone's heart!

Murph was always the pioneer in our group. She was the first to get married, first to have a baby, first to own a minivan. Even after college, she continued in the big sister roll, talking me through each new life step. She called me with news of each new pregnancy. We celebrated this new role that she was moving into as a mother. I can remember when I found out I was pregnant with my first baby. A call to Murph was one of the first I made. That was one of our longest phone conversations as I wanted her to tell me "everything!" She assured me that pregnancy and delivery would be fine and that I would make a great mom. That was just what I needed to hear at that time. There were a couple of years that followed in which we lost touch. I think we both were going through difficult times and neither one of us had the emotional energy to reach out to anyone. I wish we had lived closer. Her shoulders would have caught my tears many a night and mine would have done likewise for her. Although we were not close in proximity and we only talked a few times a year, I knew that if I ever really needed her, my "big sister" would be there for me, to chat with me to advise me, to pray with me.

When I heard of her upcoming surgery, I immediately called her. She did not have a chance to call me back that day, but texted me later that night. the next day as I texted her back I assured her that I would be praying for her and thinking of her as she went through surgery. I waited a couple of days after the surgery and sent my dad over to visit her. If I could not be there to see her, I sent the next best thing! She was sleeping, but my dad had a nice chat with her mom. The next week as I was preparing to get gift cards to restaurants for her family I just felt like I should call her. I felt sure that I would talk to her mom as she was probably resting. To my surprise she answered the phone. It was so good to hear her voice. We chatted for a moment and then I asked her if I could pray with her. She just exhaled deeply and said, "That would be GREAT." I prayed for complete healing of her body and peace for her and her family. Right before I was about to close the prayer, the Holy Spirit prompted me to to thank God for her friendship, and for the many ways she had blessed my life. I can't explain in words how precious that memory will always be for me as I had the opportunity to tell her how much she meant to me and my life. When I woke up the next morning and learned the shocking news of her death, I cried out to God in my own grief and for the grief of her precious family. Many hours have, and will be spent in prayer for her family.

This time of Lent is always a thoughtful time for me. For those of us who have accepted Christ Jesus as our savior, we are reminded that our everlasting life has not come without a price. Although we will one day be rejoicing with the angels, the suffering must be first. I march on toward Holy Week with a foreboding feeling in my heart. I know what is coming for the Savior. I feel the cross looming. There are things about this I will never understand...how God could love me so much that he would allow his son to suffer and die for me. How those who claimed to love Him, rejected Him. How black and dark it all seemed in the end. Somehow, though, after the darkness, Easter always comes. No matter how many times I ponder these events or hear the story, Jesus always leaves the tomb and Easter comes. No matter how my heart is saddened by His suffering and death, Easter comes. No matter how sinful the world gets, Easter comes. No matter how much my soul cries out for strength and healing, understanding of that which is not understandable, Easter comes.

My prayer for us right now is that although we are, like Mary, standing at the tomb amid our confusion and pain over what has happened, the Lord will remind us that Easter comes. Easter comes. For Jennifer Marie Murphy Martz, our beautiful sister, loyal friend, loving daughter, and devoted mother, Easter has come.

And in my soul the quiet voice of the angel whispers to me, "She is not here. The tomb is empty. Easter has come."