Saying goodbye is tough. My mother is about to pass. Prayers for my family would be appreciated.
I wrote this little note as a tribute to her a couple of nights ago if you care to read it:
I sit here tonight holding a special hand. This little hand is weathered by 86 years of life. She extended her hand a little towards me as i sat down next to her bed. I cradle it in my hands gently. It has held me as a baby, caressed my head to comfort me, patted me on the back to encourage me, spanked me when i misbehaved. It has made me clothes and sandwiches and fried pies and monkey bread. A talented and hard-working hand that has picked cotton and canned beans and milked cows and held puppies through the week and played the piano for congregationals on Sundays and mid-week services and tucked me in at night as a little boy. It has been placed on me many times in prayer. Those fingers that are weak tonight have been used as a comb to make me look better and been used as a direction sign to get me to live better.
There is a voice behind this hand i hold. That voice has been so loving and kind and gentle, so quick to encourage and uplift. She has told me how proud she is of me and all the other brothers and sisters. It used to be a strong voice calling the family to supper, praising the Lord or singing at the piano. The voice was always filled with love, even when she used my full name ( first, middle and last), but it was always for my good. This sweet voice is tired and weakened and weary now. Her voice was the first i heard in this world and now i am hearing some of the last words she will speak in this world.
A doctor has come by; he looks startled. He says there are angels sitting in the room with us. Ambassadors of God come to escort her the final steps. Some hover, awaiting the command. The message went out this morning three times: "It's time". There is a place prepared for you, a celestial city not made by man. A holy place built of God.
So soon, too soon, I will release this hand into the hand of Jesus. As he takes her by the hand, i have no doubt she will hear the voice that spoke the world into existence, that separated light and darkness, the voice that spoke "come unto me", the voice that drew her to Christ 72 years ago will have a word for her: "Well done thou good and faithful servant...Enter into the joy of the Lord."
Momma, I love you beyond words. We will see you soon.
