“Love has changed even the snow,” I thought as I glanced out the window. This
Saturday morning, it blankets. This
Valentine’s day, it floats softly down.
That empty holiday so many years ago, the flurries stung my face,
pecked at my eyes; the cold was harsh and unforgiving – a thing alive that
existed to pester me.
But the jagged lines have blurred. Instead of images that poke and cut, the
edges of this day have worn down. I now
choose to remember seeing through the church window backs of heads so numerous
I couldn’t count; all those people there because they cared. It is beautiful. Then, I shivered in my Mom’s black dress. I didn’t have one of my own, so I borrowed
hers for her own funeral. I was still a
teenager sneaking clothes from her mother’s closet; thoughts like that make me
smile, now.
Then, the cold sunk into my skin and made my bones rattle. How ironic that a few days before
when she had breezed home, she had told me to shut my bedroom window because
although it was 60 degrees outside, it was still February and I could catch
cold. That day, she was sunshine standing
before me. You couldn’t mask the light
that came from her face. Even when she seemed
a nagging Mom, she was joyful. To both the
familiar and strange, you could see, feel
the love behind her eyes.
But three days later, waiting to go into that service, I was under no
illusions. What I had seen in the casket
was bleak and hollow, literally void of life.
Without an image, the undertaker had mirrored the picture on her license
(which she had hated.) It wasn’t just
cosmetic. The thing lying in there was a
shell, nothing more. There was no soul,
no being, nothing vibrant like my mother had been. The whole situation was cruel and unjust and
stabbing and ached so badly I thought I would break into pieces bleeding.
Time has eroded those feelings. Then, the loneliness of losing my best friend
tightened my throat and threatened to choke me.
Today, I am married to my best friend.
For years, I dreaded mid-February, hated red-and-pink hearts thrown up everywhere. Today, I look
forward to buying them to lace my daughter’s birthday celebrations. Then, my mother was dead. Today, I take comfort in knowing how alive
she truly is and I know I will see her, someday.
What switched? The
Romance of the Ages softened everything.
I have found her light inside of myself.
I embraced her faith and made it my own.
Death’s meaning changed in me from something that came to steal and
destroy to merely a passageway to another place, a door. It has no more power than a threshold,
something I can step over easily.
Love made those changes.
Learning more about what Jesus promises and having assurance that my
mother knew about and believed in those promises alters everything about her
death and makes defeat a victory.
Do I still miss her?
Sure. Do I still ache because
Valentine’s Day is on a Saturday, again, and the loss of her wakes me,
crying, sometimes? Yes. But at last, I
am comforted. I need her here with me,
but I can go on. I understand…I confidently hope that I
understand how happy and content and pain-free she is. I love her so much that I can let her
go. And I am happy for her. Praise God!
Points to Ponder
1 Corinthians 15:55 55”O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”
Jeremiah 31:3-4 3”[This is what the Eternal One has to say:] I appeared to
them from far away and said: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love – out of
faithfulness, I have drawn you close. 4And so it shall be again, my Israel; I will build you
up and you shall be rebuilt. You will again
take up the tambourine and join those who are dancing for joy.’”
Revelation 21:3-5 3”And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people,
and He will dwell with them. They will
be His people and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will
be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, for the old order of things has
passed away.”
5 He who was seated on the throne said,
“I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words
are trustworthy and true.””
