Sunday was a day filled with missing Mom. I don't know why some days are harder than others, but Sunday was a tough day.
That evening as I took a break from writing, the treadmill in the upstairs bedroom was whirring as Joe was walking, and I ran to the kitchen to grab a Diet Pepsi then stopped by the hall bathroom only to realize we were nearly out of toilet paper in there (sorry if that's TMI). I keep all of our Costco paper goods in the garage, so I headed down there.
When I got to garage, I went to the shelf where we keep the toilet paper and I saw a silk flower arrangement of Mom's peeking from a box, still waiting to be unpacked and to find its place since we moved. And I just broke down. I stood there and cried and cried, missing her so much. And I asked God aloud if He would please give me some kind of encouragement about her...
Now, I worship God when He answers, and I worship Him when He doesn't. But when He answers quickly, and gives me just what I need, those times help sustain me through the "waiting room" stretches of life.
Sunday night as I slept, I dreamed. I dreamed I was on a bus headed somewhere, I don't know where. But I looked up ahead and I saw Mom standing with Jack on the side of the road, and I instinctively knew, in my dream, that she needed to give me something. So I asked the bus driver to stop. He did and I reached out the window to get what Mom was holding up. A pack of gum(!). That flat package kind where you push the gum out of its little pocket. Weird, I know. I have no clue...
Anyway, as soon as my hand touched hers, I woke up in my dream. And I realized I was dreaming but I also realized that was Mom. The bus had already started moving again but I ran to the front and told the driver to stop. I jumped off and ran back and Mom was waiting for me, and we just hugged. I can still feel her arms around me right now, and what holding her felt like. So precious...
I don't have all the answers as to what awaits us on the other side, or in what to make of things like this. All I know is that I told the Lord of Heaven and Earth that I missed my mom, and He heard.
He hears you too. Every prayer, whether uttered or not. Every petition, whether whispered in a dark garage or amidst the hustle and bustle of a crowded mall.
A song I've recently come to love is one Mandisa and Matthew West sing. It's called Sometimes Christmas Makes Me Cry (click title to listen). The lyrics are beautiful.
As the song says, I think of Mary and the virgin birth, and I'm amazed at how much God thinks we're worth. That He would send His only Son to die, and sometimes Christmas makes me cry.Wishing you blessings this Christmas, and maybe a few tears too. But ones of JOY!
Much love, friends...
