Fridays...

Fridays and Saturdays have been especially difficult for me the last couple of weeks. I think it's because I'm so busy during the week, that my mind isn't on the loss of my mom constantly (don't get me wrong, I think about it a lot), but when Friday hits, all I can think about is the phone call from my dad. Then, I start replaying the whole day over and over again. Anyway, the last couple of weekends were a little tough.

This weekend, we decided to be proactive and plan ahead something to do, which was a great idea. Evan and I went to the Seminary for a Family Night back to school bash. Lot's of free food, games, inflatables, and carnival rides...so much fun. Kendall will certainly have a blast in the years to come at this event.

I shared a story with a friend tonight that I've shared over and over since we got the phone call. I've wanted to write it just for my memory and record; I know some of you have heard it already. Anyway...here goes...

If you've ever heard a sermon in your lifetime that you know it was God's word to you, then you will know what I'm talking about. I have very few sermons that I can actually remember, but the Sunday after my mom died was one of those sermons.

I had not sat in a worship service in probably six weeks or more. The Sunday after my mom died was the first Sunday that I wasn't either in the nursery or helping in a SS class somewhere, but I know God had me in that service for a reason. First, the music just got to me. One of the first songs we sang was It is Well With My Soul. If you are in my extended family, then you will understand the significance of that song. Our family has always been "big" on hymns, and this is probably my dad's all-time favorite (besides How Great Thou Art) and was one of the songs used at my Aunt Ramona's funeral (also the last song that I ever heard her sing), not to mention the story behind the song. (If you aren't sure of the song or the story, click here.) At any rate, I sang the song (barely) with tears streaming down my face, praising God, because I KNEW it really was well with my soul. Then, the next song was something all about attributes of God. I can't remember the name of the song or many of the lyrics, but all I could think while I was singing was that God is still all thse things, even in the midst of my sadness. He is no less capable, no less big, no less of a healer because he chose to take my mom home with Him.

Then came the sermon...Our pastor had been preaching a sermon series on the Sermon on the Mount for several weeks. Most of it I missed, due to being other places during worship time. The verses that week were the end part of Matthew 6, that are all about worrying. As he spoke on verse 27 that says, "And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?" I thought about that verse in light of my mom's illness.

If you were ever around her, it was very rare that she was worried. I don't even think she just put on a good front, I think she just knew that ultimately, her hope was in heaven. She didn't sit and talk about how sick she was or what might happen in the future. She didn't have her funeral planned out. She didn't want to talk about any of that. Maybe inside she was a little afraid of her own death, but I really don't think so. I think she was just extremely confident about her eternal salvation.

While she had a heavenly hope, I believe God gave her an earthly hope in that surgery. After hearing Dr. Cook speak on those verses, I believe it was every bit of right and okay for her to live for that surgery on earth, because she knew that ultimately she would be healed one way or another. If you spoke with her in her last days, she was so excited about the possibility of having new life on earth again! Had she (we) sat around and talked about her death or what was to come, I believe we would have been worried about the future, (which according to the verses in Matthew, is sin) and wouldn't have enjoyed our final days with her.

I'm so thankful for my mom's hope. I'm so thankful for a God that IS hope!