Meeting My Mother

Meeting My Mother
I have known my mother all my life. I will meet her for the first time in heaven.
In heaven, Mother will not have schizophrenia.
She will not feel compelled to hoard plastic containers, buy junk, collect magazine articles or sort through everything in the house at regular intervals.
She will not think she needs to outsmart doctors, insurance salespeople, real estate agents, or plumbers.
She will not alienate everyone who loves her.
She will sit and talk and laugh with me, and not mention any of this.

1 John 3:2
Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.

Hallellujah!

Two weeks ago, I went forward in church and requested prayers. I left Chattanooga headed for Indiana and my ninety-year-old parents surrounded by the prayers of the most loving congregation of Christians with whom Bruce and I have ever been associated.

They knew I was worried, but even I did not know how worried until the situation was resolved. I sobbed for hours. Every time I think how miraculously it all worked out, I break down again, overcome with gratitude and praise. To explain the problem would take a book and would upset my entire family, but, by the Grace of God, my elderly parents are, with their full consent, being placed in a safe, healthy environment. And my three sisters, my parents and I are bound together in love. Hallelujah!!

The short version: My sisters and I met together (again) to discuss what could be done about Mother and Daddy and their intolerable living conditions. We did the usual pointing of fingers and glaring and then came up with a possible solution.

As soon as we stepped into our parents’ house, Daddy called us aside. He and mother had come up with a plan: He would move into assisted living immediately for much needed rest, and my sister Paula would stay at the house and care for Mother until an apartment became available—the very plan we had arrived at moments before. When we asked Mother for confirmation, she smiled and humbly thanked Paula for consenting to stay. It was at that point I began to cry and praise God. I left with blessings on my head and tears running down my face. God is good. God is faithful. Praise the Lord.

“Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob,
    all the remnant of the people of Israel,
you whom I have upheld since your birth,
    and have carried since you were born.
Even to your old age and gray hairs
    I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
    I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

Isaiah 46:3,4  (NIV)