Gone

My mom is gone. She went to be with Jesus last night at 11:23 after fighting the good fight for Christ and winning over one more soul for Him. She went quickly and peacefully, just as we all prayed she would. She was surrounded by my dad, me, Sarah & her sister, Kathi, who she had been asking about for a week.

I don't know what to write. This hurts. That's an understatement...this hurts worse than anything I've ever faced, and I feel that I've faced some pretty big things. I want to talk about how God keeps showing up, from using her life to reach someone to using this experience to heal others hearts. I want to share how I read Philippians 4 to her yesterday, especially the verse that He gave her when she started chemo, Phil. 4: 13, "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength," and how we prayed together that God would strengthen her and He did for one last work for Him. I want to share the joy that He filled my heart with that He can work such miracles in the midst of such immense loss. I want to tell you how present the Spirit of God was in her room last night, and how I knew as she breathed her last breath she was in Jesus' arms with no more pain, sorrow or tears. I know He is holding her in His peace and her body is glorified. I want to share how when I sat down to read my Bible while they prepared her body that every single page I randomly flipped to had a verse highlighted about the reassurance of our eternal life through salvation in Christ. I want to talk about how two hours after she died, right when the mortuary arrived and it was time to say goodbye to her earthly body, Sarah & I got the KLOVE verse of the day on our phones, 2 Corinthians 5:17 - "This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!" A passage she picked to be read at her funeral on Thursday. How today, after thinking about how Jesus knew how I felt because He wept at Lazarus' grave, I picked up a book she had called "God always has a Plan B" and immediately opened to a page titled, "God has a plan B for accepting grief and loss as a part of life" which talked about how Jesus cried at Lazarus' burial site. He keeps showing up and giving me just what I need at just the right moment.

I also want to cry, but I feel numb. I know she's gone, but I don't believe it. I want to share, but I want to close myself off. I sobbed buckets tonight after I put my sweet Zooey down for bed, my body wrecked with exhaustion and grief and the realization that she's gone. At the same time, I keep expecting her to come out of her room to sit in her recliner. I woke up last night from a dream wanting to call her, and it took me a second to realize she's no longer there to call or to text pictures and daily stories to about Zooey. I did laundry and folded her nightgown and about fell apart. I see the way she organized the wrapping paper in the garage or open the cabinet to all her perfumes, and my heart clenches and my stomach feels sick. Zooey was on my lap looking at a picture of my mom that we'll use at the service, and I said, "That's Grandma," to which she got excited and pointed at my mom's room. This following the moment before her nap when I showed her that Grandma was gone and told her simply that Grandma had died and was wtih Jesus, and she yelled Grandma three times and pointed to her room, fussing and reaching. These things ripped my heart apart. I guess they're right that children this age do understand more than we think they do about grief, so it's best to be honest with short, loving phrases.

It is grief afresh, and once again it's the little things. Oh, my heart aches and I miss her so!! I wish there were a way to purge all this sadness and be done with all the pain, but unfortunately, I know that's not how life works. I know that life will go back to normal, only it won't be "normal" anymore, and that's when it's going to hurt. I know that this year and probably every year and every big event will bring fresh pangs of grief that I will have to deal with. I don't know how people do this without Jesus, because I'm enough of a wreck with Him carrying me through; thank God I have Him to hold me up when I need it. It's moments like these that I truly know why they call it faith. I know it's Him giving me the faith I need, because I have none on my own.

Mom, I will miss you forever, and I cannot wait to see you again in Glory.