1. Psalm 113: 3 “From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” (ESV)

Psalm 29:11 “The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses His people with peace.” (NIV)

Psalm 28:6-8 “Praise be to the Lord, for He has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to Him in song.” (NIV)

My sweet mom died a little over two months ago; and truly, I find myself with a loss of words. It’s been a long while since writing a blog post, a while because a part of me simply does not want to grieve and face reality.  How do you communicate what it feels like to lose that mother figure and close a chapter on a significant part of your life? With both parents deceased now, there’s struggle. No more phone calls daily to the land line. No more sharing about just the life of raising three boys. No more unsolicited advice. No more parental support. No more hearing either of their voices or seeing my mom’s wide grin anytime my doctorate was mentioned. No more pulling out of my childhood home and seeing the sight of both of them waving goodbye or more recently, just one. My heart is really sad; and it is just ok. 

There’s the last card she ever sent me. There’s the house my parents built and lived in for 66 years. There are the endless drawers and cabinets that have never been decluttered. There’s the note to Santa Claus from me as a first grader (telling Santa that “Dad was hollering at mother, and Ann was hollering at me!”) There’s the seven page paper written on a typewriter describing in vivid detail the weekend our family cabin was set ablaze by arsonists over a black/white issue in Oxford while my dad was beginning his first full year of being the Mayor of Oxford.

There are the pictures adorning the walls with celebrities and some who would become friends. Willie Morris. Lauren Hutton. George Bush. Rosalyn Carter. Tommy Lee Jones. William Faulkner. Tony Bennett. William Styron. To name a few. Those are proudly displayed in my dad’s office while the kids and grandchildren adorn the walls of the bedroom and den.

This home stands as an Ebenezer of God’s grace and provisions. A very real place of much life and much grief. Despite my father’s public persona, he was emotionally distant at home and a real product of the cruelty of serving in World  War II and seeing most of his friends die. According to his mom, the war changed him; and he never processed it.  My dear mom was the devoted wife, mother, sister, and friend; and she dedicated her entire life to those callings. Despite the early loss of her mother and being raised by maids, she, too, allowed our dear maid Minnie  to practically raise each one of us. Yet, God’s grace transcended the imperfect relationships contained on Douglas Drive; and He continues to write a magnificent story.

That’s what has been on my plate for the last few weeks: an adjustment to the new normal and a gratitude for what has been. Being a wife and mom to three boys. College decisions. Basketball, Swimming, and now track. Senior activities. Mentoring. Taking counseling classes.

In my last post, I posed the question, “Where are you in regard to your relationship with Christ?” For you, sweet friend, what are those places in your life in which you need to grieve and let go? Where is that place needed of fresh surrender to what God is doing in the present so that you will not miss out on His provisions?

Psalm 28:6-8 “Praise be to the Lord, for He has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to Him in song.” (NIV)

These are the last verses read by my mom while attempting to recover. She never wanted to live like she did the last eight weeks of her life; and I believe she knew what was happening. Feeding her ice chips. Stroking her hair. Holding her hand. Rubbing her back. Decorating her room time and time again. Being with her on her last day on earth and watching her frail body shut down. All, all, every last one of them were gifts to a heart of the child who always wanted a mom to meet her more deeply with more connection. And isn’t God’s heart just like that: HE gave me opportunities to be and to do for her in ways I always wanted. To be all in. To be in the messy and not bolt. To sit in the pain and not fix it. To surrender. 

The reality is each of us will face death: ours and our loved ones. What will we say in the midst of the storm? Will Jesus be our Rock and our Redeemer? Will we demand our own story, or yield to His beautiful plan?

His name is Redeemer; and He has numbered our days with both gifts and giftedness; our life is simply the place, the dash between the beginning and end, in which He beckons us to “be all in.” Are you?