This is what the LORD says: "Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls."
- Jeremiah 6:16
My story is one of loss, but also about how one mother’s love for Jesus would transform lives just by the way she lived and died. It’s an unusual story of the incredible love of our God. God’s love fights for you. It’s a love that is there in the darkest of days, in the brightest joys, and the deepest of trenches. A love that - when you are on your knees in despair - comes to you, scoops you up, and lets you be.
Most every little girl desperately loves (and needs) her mom. For many little girls, we hold on tight to our mothers - her love, her guidance, her wisdom... well, for most little girls.
I can't remember the very beginning, but I can remember when I realized things were never going to be the same. I can remember the heartache, the cold room, the quiet, and all the tears. All the tears, but not mine.
I don't remember the exact time, but it was a Tuesday and the whole world around me was a blur. What was I supposed to do now? My mom had just died. She was gone. Did I even know what that would mean for me? How my life would never be the same.
So what did I do? The next day I got up and had my dad take me to school, because it was Wednesday, and I had class. I can remember sitting on the couch in the front lobby with my best friend Hannah. But nothing else, except that half way through the day my dad had to come get me. I don't remember why. But he was there.
Home seemed the same, for a while. Because you see, my mom had been in the hospital before she died, so just for a while it felt the same... until the Friday of her funeral. I remember walking up to her casket with a bracelet in my hand. I carefully placed the bracelet in with her. I also remember going to the cemetery where it all became real. For a long time afterwards, I wouldn't go back to her grave because if I didn't go there it wouldn't be real.
At 7 years old, life was already so big and overwhelming. I tried so hard to hold it all together. Not to cry. Not to think about it. Stay put together. But I was scared, angry, unsure, sad, and a million other things.
But, through the loss and all the heartache, there is something beautiful I want everyone to know about my mom. My mom had cancer, she had cancer before, had been in remission before, so when she was told it came back… she knew that this was it. She knew her time was short.
There was something beautiful about her realization that the end of her life was near: she held fast to Jesus, spoke of his truths, and prayed for her family. She prayed for the salvation of my brother, my dad and myself.
Even when life was dark and heartbreaking she knew her God was good and she knew her life meant so much more than just a beating heart. As an adult, I look back and see the overwhelming goodness of our God.
My dad is a man of God, who has changed lives by doing missions in Brazil and by speaking God’s truth no matter what. My brother is a youth leader in his church, a dad to 6, and a foster parent. He lives his life speaking about the goodness of God.
And I continually am learning about the love of our God… I am constantly striving to live like my mom. Knowing that even in unimaginable despair, my God is good.
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