Diane

In a previous post I mentioned waiting to see if a friend would be healed and get to go home from the hospital. Turns out she ended up going to her eternal home far sooner than anyone imagined. She's no longer suffering, she's with Jesus! I got to speak at her Celebration of Life. I was super nervous about it and it took over all my thoughts for a couple weeks between when she passed and when her service was because I wanted to honor my friend well. But God surrounded me with encouraging people and helpful friends and family and the Holy Spirit enabled me to do it well, without even seeming nervous on stage! 

Here’s what I said about my family’s dear friend…

I consider myself blessed to have called Diane ‘friend’. I am humbled her family is letting me share some of my own stories about her as I grieve her loss so thank you Mike and Brenda. 

Diane was incredibly servant-hearted and generous. I’m sure many of you have your own stories—stories of how she served in ministries here at church, opened her home to others, cared so well for those around her, or noticed and met needs both locally and around the world. Even after hearing these stories and remembering my own, it’s still hard to grasp how much she did—because she simply did it quietly. She didn’t want fanfare. She only wanted to serve God and to serve others. And wow did she do that! 

Today, I want to share a glimpse of what Diane meant to my family.

Nine years ago, Diane answered a Facebook post I had made looking for a nanny for my baby, so I could return to work. What began as a helpful year-long season in the life of a brand new mother, turned into a lifelong place in our hearts. Ever since then, she has held a very special place in my son’s life. He would ask her to come to his birthday parties and she would ask him out for park dates. During COVID, she even rented an entire movie theater so he could have his very first movie-theater experience! Who would do such a thing? Diane, that’s who.

When my second son was born, Diane became just as much of a grandmother figure to him as well. She took my kids—without me—on full-day adventures, and she was someone I trusted completely with the care of my little ones. My children now look back with fondness on memories of Christmas parades, lunches at the camper on her property, visits to the Dr Pepper Museum, and other adventures she planned for them. Diane always found creative things to do, thoughtful treats to share, and special ways to make my kids feel deeply loved. And somehow, miraculously, I don’t remember my kids ever fighting when they were with her.

Summers didn’t feel complete without swimming at Diane’s community pool. She always thought through every detail—even lunch—and never wanted to accept payment. When my parents moved to Austin, she invited them too, honoring their role as grandparents while befriending them and helping them adjust to life in Austin.

My six-year-old asked me to share one favorite memory of his: a day at Diane’s when they tested out a cotton-candy-making machine with friends. Was the cotton candy good? No—it was far too sour. But it wasn’t really about the cotton candy. It was about the joy of trying something new together, laughing, and figuring it out side by side. And yes—they eventually got it right!

I’m also so grateful Diane got to spend time with my third son, who is just 10 months old. Even briefly, she loved him well.

The last time my nine-year-old—the one Diane watched as a baby—saw her was at the airport just this past November. He was heading to Ecuador with his dad for his first mission trip, and Diane was heading to Germany for a missions conference and they happened to run into each other! Diane loved to travel, whether for new experiences or to serve others. Now that she’s gone, I like to think of that moment as her quietly passing the torch to the next generation.

One of the last texts I received from Diane said, “Give the boys a hug, and we’ll catch up when I’m home.” Diane’s life felt like a hug to our entire family. The way she cared for us—both physically and spiritually—has left lasting memories. And as I wait for the day when we can catch up with her again in our eternal home, I want to live the way she did: noticing needs and serving wherever I can. Diane always came from a place of “yes.” She always said yes and emulating that, I know would honor her.

Diane noticed what people needed and created meaningful moments—even if they were small. That was her superpower. She was the hands and feet of Jesus on Earth.

People often ask how she managed to do so much. I think the answer is simple: she followed Jesus closely. And what you copy, you become.

May we copy Diane as she copied Christ.

Thank you. 

The sanctuary was packed with friends and family of Diane. She made a big impact on those around her and to her church. Afterwards, many came up to me and shared how they had the same kinds of memories of her extravagant way of loving. I’m so thankful to have known and been loved by Diane. There will always be an ache in my heart for not having her around. 

We love you, Diane! See you soon.