Life changing events, watershed moments that transform our lives, come in at least two versions.
There’s the classic, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming!” in which an event suddenly and significantly changes our life… a promotion that moves your family to another state, a tragic accident that catapults you into survival mode. Whatever the situation, it comes suddenly and catches you off guard, changing your story forever.
Another version is the, “I knew this day was coming, but…” event.
For most of this year, my mother has been uncommunicative and bedridden, and as noble as my intentions may be, I find it difficult to sit by her bed for long periods of time not knowing if she’s even aware I’m there. My visits have become fewer and shorter. I’m afraid my nobility-to-durability ratio had declined to a junior high level as I secret away after only a few minutes by her side.
When the nurse called this past weekend and reported that her condition had made a decisive turn, I contacted the rest of our family and we headed for the rest home.
The next day, as I checked on her status, the sixty-three-year-old in me considered a bedside vigil, but the junior-high Ronnie reasoned, “You know… she could be like this for days! Let’s just check back in later.” I decided to go on to the church office, conduct the weekly staff meeting and come back later. Just when I had thought I had successfully repressed the vigil idea, I received an unexpected text from Jason in the middle of our staff meeting:
“If grandma is passing you should spend the last few days or hours by her bed. You can spend the time praying and studying. It will comfort her just knowing you are there.”
That was the first time during my “I knew it was coming, but…”experience that I wept. I realized it wasn’t about me, or even my mother, but that it was just the right thing to do. His encouragement to deal with this watershed event properly was spot on, and it empowered me to do the right thing. Pastor Amy quietly agreed, “You’ll never regret doing that for the rest of your life,” and the ever-practical Marilyn encouraged me to set up my office at mom’s bedside.
My younger brother, Steve, also a good son (just not as dramatic), had already made the same decision and now the two of us are quietly enjoying our reunion— taking it one labored breath at a time.
I so relate to the disciples who slept while Jesus agonized in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus’ disappointment clearly registered in his response—
“Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.”
Matthew 26:40-41
As I experience the weakness of flesh “living out” before me I am so encouraged to know that mom’s spirit will soon be completely alive as she comes into the presence of Jesus. The term “life changing” finds its fullness.
Old-timers would say of mom, “She is in the throes of death,” but it occurs to me that we are the ones in death’s grip while she will soon escape it.
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O grave, is your sting?”
But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
I Corinthians 15:55
Note: Today, four days later, my mother’s vital signs have returned to normal. The doctor told me to “stand down… he’d call if her condition changed.” It seems she still has some mothering to do.