When God takes home someone whom you consider a super-bright star, what do you say to the throng of people, including 11 younger siblings, left to mourn? Isa Ridgard drowned at Treasure Beach on December 3, 2023, and up until her death, at age 18, she relentlessly pursued truth and a better understanding of the LORD.
She ought to have been named Israelia because wrestling with God was a favourite pastime of hers. Although I dare say she left some of those battles with more than just a damaged hip, she always went back for more.
Is it possible to capture Isa with ink and a pen? I think not. I can only tell you the tiniest bit about the young woman who was my ‘Irish twin’ (sibling born less than a year apart), whose passing has permanently altered my view of life and eternity.
Isa was a firework. She was launched into the world, on display for everyone to see. Forsome she was a bit of decor, a nice addition to a starry sky. For others, a source of hope and guidance in a season of darkness, an unforgettable spark borrowed from The Father’s Fire.
Isa made art: poetry, storytelling, food, or the pictures that she took or for which she modelled. She made herself vulnerable, opened herself up to criticism and hurt, but also praise. As she put it, she wore her heart on her sleeve. I would add that she took pictures of that sleeve, filtered them through various art forms, and posted them everywhere. Because of that, many people were warmed by the fire that burned within her, or were guided by God’s light that shone through her.
Isa chased excellence in everything she pursued. She did well in school, at times excellently, and was involved in many clubs and activities, both at St. Andrew High For Girls and Hampton School. Isa refused to pour herself into one vessel, and with so many talents, how could she?
Vice President of the Brilanie Foundation, Isa handled small assignments for 18 Degrees North (an investigative news outlet), wrote her own blog, composed and recorded music, and voluntarily served her community by tutoring at the Bethlehem Primary and Infant School.
FAMILY TIME WAS PRECIOUS
Isa brought people together. Dubbed the PR person of our family, she brought people in and kept them close by. It’s difficult to fathom the number of people Isa communicated with regularly—from our extended family to our 70-plus-year-old neighbours, to friends from Moorlands Camp, to school friends, to strangers she had met on Instagram, etc.
And in all this, she did not neglect her immediate family. Isa would take the four youngest of our siblings (or ‘the Littles,’ as we affectionately called them) for walks or ‘hangouts,’ where they would chat up a storm while they were swinging in the backyard, and answering Isa’s questions, like, “What do you want to be in the future?”
Isa loved to hear other people’s opinions. She was a listener. Sibling ‘hangouts’ with her were a one-on-one activity, but all ‘the Littles’ spied on each other when they were awaiting their own turn to have fun with Big Sister Isa.
At the dinner table, raising controversial topics and probing for our opinions was Isa’s past time. She was deep; she asked questions that we often didn’t want to think about, like what our day was like, and how was our mental health space? She always reached out, whether for a hug, a conversation, or a casual favour, even after being rejected time and again.
I always knew Isa loved me, even when she found the words hard to say. We discussed everything we could think of: from finding purpose and meaning as young women, to whether or not unconditional love was plausible, to whether or not she would drop her surname when she wed…especially if it was to someone with a boring last name like…
She hated small talk and always wanted to dive head first into the deep end of a conversation. She was committed to authenticity, intentionality, and growth, and preferred honest criticism over a false word of praise.
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER
We, her family, watched Isa from close up. We saw the unfurling of a unique design. We
observed the ebb and flow of her relationship with God. We saw Isa baptised. Some of us
heard her doubt her Creator, walked with her when she walked away from Him, and prayed for her as she boldly walked back into His loving arms.
Yet, God took Isa, leaving us with the memories, the lessons she taught us, including the ones her presence and absence have forced us to learn – and the pictures that capture it all.
Last summer, the Lord spoke to Isa’s heart, His words were “Come as you are.” The instruction was a powerful one, life-changing in fact. She realised, as fully as any mortal mind can, the depth of His love – that she could be loved exactly as she was. Isa was never perfect, sometimes the evidence that the Lord was working in her was hard to find; buried beneath sinful habits and destructive patterns – and yet, He had searched her and known her, His thoughts towards her numbered more than the sand and there wasn’t a word in her tongue that He didn’t know altogether. (Psalm 139)
That promise was not just for Isa, but all of us. I would encourage you to do as she did, “Come as you are.”
