Dear Mom,
I know this letter won't reach you, as you are blissfully resting in the everlasting arms of Christ. This knowledge and hope make me smile, as I know that the pains and trials you experienced at the end are now but a distant memory as you cling to the glory of our God and Father whose face you sought with fervor and devotion your whole life.
Still, with it being Mother's Day and all, I feel the need to say something; and it was always easier to say what I needed to when I was talking to you.
Mom, I miss you so much. The pain of losing you still festers in my heart. While the wound has begun to heal and the joys, burdens, and minutia of life have started to close over it, it is never far from my mind. I have never hurt so much in my life.
Reminders of you crop up all over the place. I'm reminded of you whenever I begin to worship, as you taught me its importance. Every time I open the Bible I am reminded of the long conversations we would have over this and that verse. I'll admit that for a long time after you were gone I couldn't open a Bible without weeping.
It is still my first instinct whenever something happens, be it good or bad, to grab my phone and call you. Whenever I discover a new insight about God or find an interesting fact I get excited, but that excitement is drained slightly when I remember I can't tell you about it. Of course I grin in delight at the thought that whatever great stride or insight into the divine nature I think I've made here, I know it is paltry to the reality you now see as you dance and sing before the throne of the Holy One.
When that fateful day occurred and your soul left for glory, I did not know how I would survive in this world without you. Yet I have made it, and that is in no small part thanks to you and the lessons you taught me all these years. Thank you for teaching me that organization is the key to life. Thank you for teaching me that sometimes I just got to do what I got to do, whether I like it or not. Thank you for teaching me humility, patience, kindness, and joy.
Most of all I want to thank you for teaching me discipleship. You taught me, both in word and deed, that Jesus is the center of life. Everything I am, every fiber of my being, needs to be ordered and directed towards serving Christ. I learned that from you.
You'd be delighted to know that through all of this pain and loss, God has mysteriously and miraculously drawn me closer to himself. He has taken a time of profound loss and mourning and brought forth a deeper faith within me. I can take no credit for this as all the credit must go to the Spirit who is constantly shaping me, which I think is something you had been trying to teach me for years.
It pains me to think that if I am to marry, then my future wife will not have the benefit of having you as her mother-in-law. The knowledge that if I were to have children they wouldn't have you around as their grandmother brings me to tears. I can only pray that I will, by the Spirit's power, live up to the standard of Christ and be the man that you (and Dad, of course) raised me to be.
Mom, I miss your hugs. I miss your encouraging reminders that God is sovereign. I miss hearing your voice and our long conversations. I miss the way you would push me to be the best that I could be. I miss your example of faith and humility as you walked through life ever focused on Christ.
Mom, I wish you were here. I wish you got to visit Illinois and the church family I have here. I wish you got to read all the papers and assignments I had to do for seminary. I wish I could confide in you the struggles and temptations I face, since you always seemed to know what to say. I wish you were here to share in the joys, heartbreaks, successes, failures, loves, sorrows, and life of the past two and a half years. I wish you were here to share, God willing, in the many years to come.
Mom, I love you. I wish you were here, but I know that where you are is far better; I know that you are walking and leaping and praising God. Until I join you I will continue to strive towards the goal of understanding and living out the mystery of the triune God as best I can on this side of eternity. When the time comes and the Lord calls me home I cannot wait to be surprised, awed, humbled, and exhilarated by the presence of Jesus: who I first saw in you.
With love and in the name of Christ,
Your Favorite
I know this letter won't reach you, as you are blissfully resting in the everlasting arms of Christ. This knowledge and hope make me smile, as I know that the pains and trials you experienced at the end are now but a distant memory as you cling to the glory of our God and Father whose face you sought with fervor and devotion your whole life.
Still, with it being Mother's Day and all, I feel the need to say something; and it was always easier to say what I needed to when I was talking to you.
Mom, I miss you so much. The pain of losing you still festers in my heart. While the wound has begun to heal and the joys, burdens, and minutia of life have started to close over it, it is never far from my mind. I have never hurt so much in my life.
Reminders of you crop up all over the place. I'm reminded of you whenever I begin to worship, as you taught me its importance. Every time I open the Bible I am reminded of the long conversations we would have over this and that verse. I'll admit that for a long time after you were gone I couldn't open a Bible without weeping.
It is still my first instinct whenever something happens, be it good or bad, to grab my phone and call you. Whenever I discover a new insight about God or find an interesting fact I get excited, but that excitement is drained slightly when I remember I can't tell you about it. Of course I grin in delight at the thought that whatever great stride or insight into the divine nature I think I've made here, I know it is paltry to the reality you now see as you dance and sing before the throne of the Holy One.
When that fateful day occurred and your soul left for glory, I did not know how I would survive in this world without you. Yet I have made it, and that is in no small part thanks to you and the lessons you taught me all these years. Thank you for teaching me that organization is the key to life. Thank you for teaching me that sometimes I just got to do what I got to do, whether I like it or not. Thank you for teaching me humility, patience, kindness, and joy.
Most of all I want to thank you for teaching me discipleship. You taught me, both in word and deed, that Jesus is the center of life. Everything I am, every fiber of my being, needs to be ordered and directed towards serving Christ. I learned that from you.
You'd be delighted to know that through all of this pain and loss, God has mysteriously and miraculously drawn me closer to himself. He has taken a time of profound loss and mourning and brought forth a deeper faith within me. I can take no credit for this as all the credit must go to the Spirit who is constantly shaping me, which I think is something you had been trying to teach me for years.
It pains me to think that if I am to marry, then my future wife will not have the benefit of having you as her mother-in-law. The knowledge that if I were to have children they wouldn't have you around as their grandmother brings me to tears. I can only pray that I will, by the Spirit's power, live up to the standard of Christ and be the man that you (and Dad, of course) raised me to be.
Mom, I miss your hugs. I miss your encouraging reminders that God is sovereign. I miss hearing your voice and our long conversations. I miss the way you would push me to be the best that I could be. I miss your example of faith and humility as you walked through life ever focused on Christ.
Mom, I wish you were here. I wish you got to visit Illinois and the church family I have here. I wish you got to read all the papers and assignments I had to do for seminary. I wish I could confide in you the struggles and temptations I face, since you always seemed to know what to say. I wish you were here to share in the joys, heartbreaks, successes, failures, loves, sorrows, and life of the past two and a half years. I wish you were here to share, God willing, in the many years to come.
Mom, I love you. I wish you were here, but I know that where you are is far better; I know that you are walking and leaping and praising God. Until I join you I will continue to strive towards the goal of understanding and living out the mystery of the triune God as best I can on this side of eternity. When the time comes and the Lord calls me home I cannot wait to be surprised, awed, humbled, and exhilarated by the presence of Jesus: who I first saw in you.
With love and in the name of Christ,
Your Favorite
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