I know that it’s not always popular to talk about death, but, it’s quite certain and we probably should talk about it more often than we do. And if we look, we can often find blessings in the midst of it.
Since writing my last blog, my dear mother has passed away. We had watched as her quality of life had slipped slowly away over the past six months. At 93 years old, we are very grateful for all the years we had with her. But, oh…how we would miss her sense of humor and her special laugh!
The family gathered around her hospital bed at the home of my sister. Mom had not been responsive for several days and now her breathing was changing with longer pauses and more shallow breaths dominating the rhythm. It seemed inevitable that she would breathe her last before the hour was up. Her daughters and granddaughter stroked her pallid cheeks and held her hands, hoping it was comforting to her. We bent down and whispered our last heartfelt goodbyes, telling her it was okay to go to Jesus. Our words were spoken in earnest, but that didn’t make it easier for us to let go. The oldest great grandchild who just lived down the road and saw Grandma Great often, clung to her aunt for comfort. The three men in the room – men who usually don’t struggle with words -had little to say. Tears wound their way down cheeks as each one thought of their own special memories and absorbed themselves into their own personal grief.
As self absorbed as we were, there was one that looked beyond himself. An angel it seemed, disguised in the body of a child. As if anointed, seven year old Micah with glassy eyes of his own, made himself as tall as possible (or maybe that’s how I saw him) and powerfully began singing “Jesus Loves Me.” The quietness was broken and gentle smiles replaced tears. What began as a solo turned into a choir. The peace of celebration had begun! How could we not rejoice when Mom was about to enter into the greatest kingdom ever? With childlike faith, Micah understood this quicker than us, perhaps.
As the week went on and we prepared for Mom’s service, I knew that the one thing I would always remember about this time was the boldness and faithfulness Young Micah portrayed that day. It was stamped in permanent ink on my heart.
In the light of fellowship following the service, I asked Micah what he wanted to be when he grew up. “I want to be a team roper like my uncles,” he said without hesitation. I suppressed a grin behind my hand. Proverbs 16:9 tells us – We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps. It could be that Micah will become a team roper, but as Micah walks with the Lord, it might not happen that way at all. God may have other plans, but whatever those plans are, we can be assured they are the best plans possible because God loves His creation (us) and desires to complete us with what He knows will most fulfill us. In my mind I can see him as Pastor Micah – after all, he did a topnotch job of ministering to a family that needed it.
Until next month, keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.