Today would have been my mother’s birthday. I had forgotten that until my middle sister reminded me.
She was a courageous, strong woman–battling illness and weariness that comes with being a bi-vocational pastor’s wife. She had a tremendous sense of humor, always quick to say something witty, or do something out of the ordinary. Like flicking mashed potatoes with her spoon at her brother-in-law during a very formal Thanksgiving dinner. He didn’t think it was funny. I thought it was hysterical.
I wish my mother could see me know, could see me and know the change that has taken place in my heart. I once dreamed that she was at our church, sitting in the church office, and I could see her through the door so very clearly , and yet I couldn’t get to her. I remember trying to will her to turn around and see me, longing for her to see my eyes and my soul.
She is home now, home with her God. She experiences no pain, no grief, only rest, peace and the endless worship of God. It reminds me so much of the last verse of Blessed Redeemer:
O How I love Him, Savior and friend
How can my praises ever find end.
Through years unnumbered on heaven’s shore
My soul shall praise Him forevermore.
That’s what my mom is doing, she is on heaven’s shore, praising God for all eternity. I can’t even imagine.
I hope she is proud of me. I hope I will be even half as courageous of a person as she was. Below is a video of my mom holding me at Christmas that I treasure: