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,
I wish Mothers Day did not exist.
Yes, it is a very tough day for many moms/daughters and women in general. And often the toughest thing to face is being in church on Mother’s Day. I pray God comforts you with his amazing love and help you know His peace.
Blessings to you,
Lucy
Someone said a couple years after his young daughter drowned that you never get through it. It becomes part of you. But the pain lessens.
I spent the last 5 weeks of my mom’s life with her in a hospice home and was with her when she took her last breath right after Thanksgiving. I know that loss and the grief of infertility, the regret of “failed” mothering, and the pain my daughter encounters as a single mom. It’s okay to be mad at Him. He’s above it all. How do people survive without Him?
Thank you for your words, Sandra. They bring me comfort. You’ve been through a lot of loss, and yes the pain lessens when you give yourself permission to grieve.
Blessings,
Lucy