One Day at a time, a daily reflection

by surprisedbyjoy@yahoo.com

December 11

"I’m home, thank you."

"He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces…Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away."

Isaiah 25:8a; 35:10b

Yes, I am still cleaning out my files and discovered an old reflection that I wrote when my mother died twelve years ago. Such dear memories! And "love never dies as long as there is someone who remembers."

Perhaps some family background would be helpful. My beloved grandparents were simple folks. Neither had much formal schooling. When they arrived in America, they quickly found a worshipping Norwegian-American community and settled into their new country. Together they loved the church and God’s people. They often opened their humble home to missionaries, pastors and youth groups. They sang in the church choir and served as Sunday school teachers. My grandparents outlived all their children with dignity and courage.

When my grandfather had the first of a series of strokes, Grandma lovingly cared for him in the home for more than ten years. She and Grandpa moved in with my parents, for they needed all the help they could get with his care. Years later, while caring for her aging parents, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Even though I had been on my own for years, I moved back home. We had three generations of adults living under one roof. Together Grandma, Dad and myself jointly cared for our dear ones. We helped them eat, wash and take care of basic bodily needs. We nursed them day and night and were blessed with caring home nursing assistants and hospice volunteers. Without their help, the situation would have been overwhelming. And our neighbors were wonderfully supportive and helpful. A local seminary was only twenty minutes away from the house and I suddenly found myself enrolled in their masters of divinity program. I did much of my homework in hospital emergency rooms. Somehow we found strength for one day at a time.

My mother was a "born again Christian." She knew she was "going home to be with the Lord." And for her homecoming she wished to die at home. Mom wanted to be home with family and not in a hospital with strangers. Many were the nights that we would rush to the emergency room with her medical complications. One night the emergency room doctor insisted on admitting my mother.

When I saw her the next day, I realized she had only hours to live. Together as a family, against medical advice, we brought Mom home to die. The hospital sent us home with plenty of morphine and instructions to keep her pain free. We rushed home in an ambulance, racing the clock for the inevitable. Our dear friends and close neighbors had everything prepared. Fresh cut garden tulips were in a vase. The hospital bed and oxygen tank was waiting in the living room under Mom’s cherished wall clock. A thoughtfully prepared dinner was warming in the oven. Our friends gently hugged Mom, softly murmuring their good-byes while saying, "I love you. " One by one, they quietly left us to dinner.

The joy on my mother’s face was beautiful to behold as we sat around the table. She kept saying through her oxygen mask, "I’m home, thank you!" She died at that dinner table, held in Dad’s strong arms, surrounded by those she loved. Just before she died, she clearly said, "I can hear God! He is calling my name! And I have no pain and am not afraid." Then she breathed her last. She was home with God. Her pain was gone forever.

With tears streaming down her face, Grandma burst into this song: "When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be! When we all see Jesus, we’ll sing and shout the victory." Then she quietly went upstairs where Grandpa was in his wheelchair and told him the news. Together they wept and prayed. Their faith comforted them in their time of deep need.

Here is Christian hope for living one day at a time. Even when we have tears streaming down our faces, we can sing as my grandmother did.

Prayer: God, thank you for so gently wiping away the tears from our faces. Thank you for hope beyond the grave. Amen.