My mom died when I was 35 years old. The entire circumstance surrounding her death stayed with me for years. The initial crisis occurred at my house. I could hear her screams and my dad’s panicked queries. I could hear my calm husband take control of the situation, call 911, and answer endless, seemingly, ridiculous questions.
I was in another room when the commotion began. I experienced a pause from the Holy Spirit. I’d felt it once before when my grandmother died, and I knew better than to rush out. The moment I withdrew from this temporary safe haven, life as I knew it would change forever. So I stayed and quietly listened. Then with great trepidation, I stepped into my new life.
The dynamics of our family were altered that day. There was no warning, no preparation, no time to worry. We braced for action, assumed our positions of responsibility, and still Mom died. We didn’t know there’d be an aneurysm, or if she’d wake from the coma. But we trusted God’s timing for her life. Even though it meant our lives would no longer be blessed by her presence.
My large family, no stranger to crisis, took control as we navigated this situation together. Managing in a maze of disbelief, practical solution, and memories from the past, we moved forward.
It’s been twenty years and another birthday is upon me. As I age, the reality of change seems to hit with regularity. My best friend moved away suddenly. My sisters are soon moving to another state. Friends retire, people die. Change is inevitable and we are left to adapt.
Time moves fast on earth. It makes moments with family and friends so relevant. For me moments are key. I like to see and touch and experience facial expressions, moments of laughter. I remember scenery and atmosphere as a part of our encounter. How the waves felt, how blue the sky looked, where we were when we laughed the hardest. It gives me a greater appreciation for the beauty that will be Heaven. An eternity with no pho
nes, social media, or social anxiety. Everyone will belong and enjoy each other’s presence. Yet none will equal the glory of the presence of God. The gift of personal relationship is the most precious one God has bestowed. That’s a change I can embrace.
“Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.” [1 Corinthians 15:51-42]
