It's time.
It's time. It's time. It's time.
I've been on a writing hiatus. Jesus keeps hinting at me that it's time to get the keys to clackin'.
But you see... my mom died. My MOM died. And things will never be the same again. You can gain money you have lost, you can remarry, you can usually start over - different - but over; but you can't get another mom... especially one like mine, and this leaves me broken.
Is Jesus still across from me at our table? Oh yes! He's there.
I've got to tell you this one. The other day, I was driving and talking with our Savior. I was focused and really digging into some stuff with Him. I had a flash of "what if this really is my conscious talking?" Ugh! I CAN'T BELIEVE I still do this! I find myself asking (or some demon whispering), "What if I'm telling myself what I want to hear? If it's my voice, how do I know what I think are His responses aren't?" J u s t l i k e t h a t . . . the voice was gone... and so were my thoughts. I was focused on nothing. All I saw was light blue. (A bit nerve-wracking since I was driving.) It lasted for 30 seconds or so -- which can be quite a long time of nothingness. When I snapped out of it I heard, "It's me. I'm here."
Never were the words, "Be still and know I am God." so very, very true to me.
So how do we live this life of grief together? I've cried to Him, at Him, and with Him. I've prayed for those who have lost mothers and especially for those who don't know Jesus and think that death is final. I can't even begin to imagine loss without the comfort of my Lord.
Tonight I was at a wonderful meeting for Women of Worship (WOW). The message from our speaker was that no matter how many pieces you have shattered into, He will mend you back together. I feel the mending happening everyday. I've been through grief before and I know the feeling of looking behind me and discovering that I'm "so much better"... only to discover that I still had so far to go. I expected this feeling. I knew to stop and truly grieve. I knew to say NO to committees and commitments. I knew to cry in the open and let my daughters see it happen. Doesn't mean my heart was any less broken. I knew, however, what to look for and to let the wave crash and roll.
What I didn't know until now is how much He would hurt and grieve with me. This is the blessing of knowing our Lord. The closer He gets ... the closer He gets.
The tide of grief is beginning to ebb. I'm starting to feel... better. I will miss her every day. I will miss her intelligence and the look of delight she had EVERY time she saw me. I will miss her warmth -- the warmth that only a mother can give. I've been so very cold this year.
Jesus has been a guide of graciousness. I've learned a new view on compassion for others. I have reinforced the importance of turning to Him in time of need. We all talk about it, and my worse fears came true that only practice makes us more proficient at fully relying on Him. Jesus also reminded me again of the lesson of forgiveness. I was so hurt when friends didn't contact me after mom had died. I had to spend some serious time forgiving them. It is so true that there is an immediate release of pressure once you have forgiven. Forgiveness makes things ok - not great, but ok. You're able to let go of the anger.
I've also learned lessons of love from the One who is love. I have two favorite cousins in the world that came to be with me a total of three times during our weeks of losing my mother. I have no doubt - no doubt - He arranged their coming and going. I've learned that those who say they love you, like a group of Bible Study friends, will actually pick you up when you've fallen on your floor sobbing. I also know that true love never leaves you. It's like I tell my girls, "You can't wipe off mommy's kisses. It's like trying to wipe off the sunshine." I know now how true that is.
My words are meant to be a love letter to my Lord. This broken child is still here at His table, singing praises to the one who heals. Why don't I slam my fists down and scream a big 'ol, "Why me?" It's simple. His love and grace have been wrapped so tightly around me since her last breath that I can operate at 50%. There is only one set of footprints. He's praying for me. He's not letting me go. I think too many times I watch others running away from the love He gives.
He's got you too, by the way. Oh I pray you know that He's holding you. Are you running from Him or to Him?
My grief isn't over and in some ways I find an odd comfort that it never will be. I can start turning my eyes towards a warm glimmer on the horizon. I'm anxious to discover the new me I'll be. I'm anxious for the ideas He will send my way to write about. I'm ready to laugh really loudly again. But for now... instead of sitting at His table, I'm at His feet, and we remember... We remember her beautiful smile and the unique example of love she was. It's that love that I feel from them both now... and it's taking away the chill.
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