The Call To Love

a story about mother

With the ringing of the phone I checked the clock it was one in the morning. “Hello?”

“Cherrie, it’s Rebecca, your mother woke me with a bad headache and we have her in the ER.” I jumped out of bed and repeat the news to my husband. Then I grab a travel bag. Rebecca continues with the details. “She’s not really able to speak, they think she has had a stroke. The doctor wants her moved to the city, but we don’t have a time table yet.”

“That’s okay we’ll be on the road in just a minute and we’ll take Hwy 75, are they taking her to St. Francis?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as they say.”

I packed a weeks’ worth of tops and underwear, pillow and a cover, also I grab my bible, a book, medicine, make-up, phone charger, and gold-bond baby powder (which is great for presser point soreness). Within 5 minutes we were on the road heading north with a two hour trip set before us and a 59 day journey that mother and I would take together.

It is the hard things of life that shape us and it is God’s tender mercies and leading that prepares us. I had no real reason to pack a bag, except for the fact I knew God wanted me to take one, so I did.

Mother’s ambulance and I got there at the same time but what I learned when I got there was my mother had a brain tumor that was cancerous. The news was gripping to say the least. Though my heart is tender and I can be moved to tears easily, the truth of my nature is this, I was made for pressure and when those times of life hit I am at my best. I cannot tell how that works only that it is so and whenever mother would ask me if I was worried I would tell her no. I would say it with all the conviction of faith and that no matter what happened I would not leave her side and that we would take this journey together no matter what it would be.

My father died at work all alone when I was young and this fact haunted me well into my adult years. It gave me a resolve that I may not have otherwise held. His passing fueled my strength; it gave place to me being the person I seen him as. Which I hope adds depth of character to me as a woman, wife and mother.

For 59 days I slept in my cloths, ate oatmeal three times a day at the foot of her bed, that the nurses’ station provide. I gave her, her sponge baths, helped her to the bedside commode and kept a journal of every detail from treatments too therapy. When at the end all she could hope for was death I wrote her this story and every time she was overwhelmed or afraid she would say to me, “tell me.” And this is what I would read:

I Cry Holy

 

With each prayer and plea another Angel stands just a touch away, waiting for God’s call to come. Her chariot stands at the ready and with life’s last breath to God’s throne it will carry her.

 

Her days on Earth are through but her Spirit has numbered each and every one. With the facts of life a lined she smiles as God’s truth reigns over man’s knowledge.

 

The songs of praise she loved in this life fade to a whisper as hearts fully persuaded of God’s glory commands her attention. Angels and Saints lifting up glorious praise to God the Father and the Son fill the air.

 

A moment of silence falls upon Heaven as the keeper of “the book” reads Linda’s name from the Lamb’s Book Of Life. A name once etched in blood is now illuminated in pure living light from Christ’s own touch.

 

A wave offering breaks forth that erupts into joyous laughter and song, for a daughter has come home. Testimonies of God’s faithfulness spread across the sanctuary.

 

Super Bowl Sunday, Hugh, is child’s play and folly, but standing in God’s presence, now that’s living large. The streets of gold vibrate from the commotion. Walls of jasper rumble from worship. The purity of praise filters down to the earth below and shines down on humanity and resonates in every heart that loved and knew her, as she leads the first verse of Holy.

 

 

 

Reviews

[JW Edwards]

Good read my friend, liked your 'about me' too. Good to see you hold onto the Lord as you do. Not enough of that goin' around today. When my wife and I were younger we too ran a cattle ranch, I bossed the hands, she cooked for 'em. I wish that circumstance would roll our way once again. I never should have left it but I did it so my kids could have a bit more added to their lifes plate than just some cows. They all did good after leavin' the nest but I sure do miss ranchin'.

[Cherrie]

we love it, we chase cattle, horses, chickens and quail; and this year we cut some sept hay. We spent a lifetime in the city and we avoid city lights at all cost.

[JW Edwards]

Sounds like the good life! :) JW

[Cherrie]

We think so, hope you and your wife can get back to the sticks

[Cherrie]

I am hoping to make this into a story soon