As Mother’s Day nears, you’ll hear the usual, gushy mom stuff. . .and this is OK. But for you women who need comfort for any reason — a death, infertility, divorce, loneliness — please know that God loves you and he understands.

The morning began like any other. A shower, a bagel, a cup of tea. Death was near. I just didn’t know it. . .yet.

“Time to get up, Sweetie,” I told Laura. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Do you want to wear your purple sweater to preschool? It’s very cold outside.”

“OK, Mommy. Could I have toast for breakfast?”

“Sure.” I padded to the kitchen and grabbed the Butternut.

Steve called from the bathroom. “We need more shaving cream.”

Then the phone rang. A phone call now? Strange. No one calls this early.

I answered and heard a woman’s voice, all business. Her words made no sense. My mom? Dead? Looks like a heart attack? 

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” I blurted.

The woman repeated the horrible words I didn’t want to believe. When I heard my aunt’s voice in the background, I knew. Dropping the phone I fell to my knees. Tears rushed like a stream.

Fast forward two weeks.

Life seemed normal again after the funeral. I was back at work. Steve too. Laura asked fewer questions about Grandma Carol. But life was crazy on the inside. Crazy-bad. I knew I was grieving. I just never knew it could be this bad. I sped from denial to anger and flat-out asked God, “Why did you kill my best friend? Didn’t you know I needed her?”

You may think my questions were irreverent. Maybe they were. I don’t know. I only knew that I hurt deeply and that my God is sovereign. He picked the hour of her death. He was responsible. I didn’t like him very much right then.

Fast forward a few months.

It was Mother’s Day and tough to be in church. The ushers handed out roses. I gave mine to Laura. Sadness covered me like a wet, wool coat. Beyond uncomfortable. I wanted out. My days were dark. My nights darker.

Fast forward a few more months.

I visited my mom’s grave site and traced the words on the polished stone with my finger: Carol Gale Kuper ~ November 7, 1931 – January 10, 1994 ~ Through Death Into Life. And I cried. Again. Yet something was different. I was different.

You see, on this day, as I touched the stone, I made the decision to hope, to live again. I no longer allowed sadness and anger to rule my heart. I laid them in the safe hands of God, the same God whom I accused of killing my mom, my best friend. He didn’t kill her, he called her home to heaven. He’s not always likeable.

But he loves. . .

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Death is a terrible thing. It hurts.

Has death come near to you? Keep reading this post at here at Basics Matters, where I blog on Mondays.

Please leave a comment below. Someone needs to hear your words today. Thank you.

With Joy Overflowing,

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