I blogged in September about this being a summer of goodbyes. Well, little did I know the hardest goodbye was yet to come.
On Thursday, Dec. 21, I gave the “mentor moment” at our church Mom’s ministry’s Christmas brunch. I focused on Mary, the mother of Jesus, at the moment she was told she would give birth to the savior. Her response to the angel: “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be to me according to your word.”
I am your servant, let it be. This expression of ultimate surrender has stuck with me over the years. As I spoke to those young mom’s about letting go of expectations, accepting what God brings, and serving Him faithfully no matter what it is, I was giving my own Christmas to Him. My daughter and her husband were coming home and we’d have to share them with two other families for a week. Not an easy thing for me. “Let it be.” I used this is my reminder to accept what is, not fight it. I was feeling pretty good about myself that Thursday. I sensed God was teaching me how to accept what He brings.
Then Friday came. My dad called. My mom was in the hospital. She had fainted and he had called 911. She has a pool of blood inside her abdomen, a bleed of some sort. They seemed to have it under control. But they might not make it for Christmas. Maybe we could come the week after and bring “Christmas” to them. I was relieved it wasn’t more serious, but very sad that they might not be able to come. They are very much a part of our Christmas each year. I reminded myself: “I am your servant Lord, let it be.”
Saturday morning Dad called. Mom seemed to be doing well. They’d keep her for observation. But maybe they would get to come. He’d keep me posted. That was at 8 a.m. At 9:30 a.m. he called again. She had a huge turn for the worse. She was hemorrhaging badly. I was in the car on my way to their home (4 hours away) in an hour. “I am your servant Lord.”
The next 3 days were very difficult. My mom knew me when I arrived. But within hours she was no longer conscious. She never spoke again. My brother and sister came, we wept, laughed, sat by her beside. We comforted Dad. We told many stories. We sang by her beside. We didnt sleep much. On Tuesday morning she quietly breathed her last breath.
My mom was an amazing woman. She was baptized as an 8 year old. She was raised as a pastor’s kid. She grew up during the depression, with very little. She married a man who became a bank president. She learned how to support him well, yet never forgot to care for those who had less than she did. She was a great mother to 3 children who learned everything about life from her. In her later years she struggled with depression. Eventually she was diagnosed with what they thought was bipolar disorder. She could not live without medication the last 20 years of her life. During her struggle, Jesus had a hold of her. He never let go. She was the Lord’ servant, let it be.
Our family will bury her body in a couple of days, back in the town I grew up. These last days the memories of my childhood there have flooded my mind. Those distant days seem almost like a dream. Did they really happen? Perhaps that is what it will be like in heaven; the memories of earth will be a distant memory, because the current reality will be so amazing: a place with no sorrow, pain or tears.
Someday I’ll join my mom there. Of that I am sure. Until then: “I am the Lord’s servant, let it be.”
