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|Thursday, September 27, 2018|
Mom is gone.
She went home to be with Christ earlier this week. We’re glad for her relief. But losing her feels like the sticky side of a Band-Aid being torn off a deep gash on your arm. Or maybe your heart.
Mom was the first to send a get-well card. The first to remember your birthday. The first to visit shut-ins. The first to send a thank you if you did the slightest favor. The first to send an email. The first to give you a call and ask how your “thing” went—whatever your thing was.
Her life was often a living illustration of Hebrews 13:6, “Do not forget to do good and to share with others. For with such sacrifices God is pleased.”
Need a meal? Mom would make you one. And boy, could she bake:
• Cinnamon rolls with a gooey white frosting…
• A “Peach Kuchen” coffee cake every Christmas…
• Sugar cookies so perfectly done, they were great even without sugar...
• An apple pie with a crust my wife says is the absolute best…
In addition to her baking, Mom was a seamstress whose projects looked professional—never tacky. She knit scarfs and mittens for her kids and sewed pajamas for her many grandkids. She was a quilter, a traveler and a camper.
She raised six kids—imagine having four little ones under the age of four. I was the fourth child, born on her birthday. We’ve always celebrated together. Not this year. Never again this side of eternity. Underline that last phrase—”this side of eternity.” Because there is another side.
I have every expectation of seeing Mom alive again in heaven. Not because of wishful thinking or feel good religion. The Bible says, “God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him will not die but have eternal life.” Mom received Christ as Savior, which means she will be forever in heaven.
I’ve never lost a parent before.
Wish I didn’t have to start now.
But knowing the certainty of heaven—and seeing Mom again—is good medicine for a sad soul. Mine.
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