Home » Heavy, Heavy, Heavy (Part one of two)

Heavy, Heavy, Heavy (Part one of two)

“Hey, Mom, what’s going on?” I asked my Mom, a mother of five. We talked as she waited on her porch for the adult daycare center van, and I heard her excitement, knowing I would be there soon. I reminded her that my flight from Louisiana to Pennsylvania wouldn’t get in until later that night and assured her I would see her early the next morning. Spending a week with Mom was going to be special.

Forty-five minutes later, with my suitcase packed, I looked around to see if I had forgotten anything. My phone rang and it was my youngest sister, Mary. She talked so fast I could only pick up about every other word. Mom – accident – hurt – bad. “What the heck?” I said. “Slow down. Tell me what happened.” The van had picked Mom up as planned, but en route to the center, there was an accident. Mom was badly injured.

The next phone call filled me in with more details. Mom was being life flighted to a Trauma 1 center hospital about 40 miles away. I threw additional sweaters in my bag anticipating the cold hospital and headed out the door to the airport.

At the airport, a young man curbside took my bags and I drove off to park. He met me inside with my carryon and told me to have a good day. I think the shock was setting in and suddenly I heard myself telling him about what had happened to Mom. I mean, I was telling him everything. The poor kid. He just kept saying, “I’m sorry.”

A woman sitting on a bench near us called us to come to her. She wanted to pray. There we were in the middle of the airport, three strangers holding hands as she prayed a prayer of protection and healing on mom, safe travels for me and God’s peace on our family. I thanked her, hugged her and the kid, and continued on to security – gratefully reminded my journey this day was not solo.

Arriving in my connecting airport, I turned my phone on. With great trepidation, I viewed my texts. The list of Mom’s unbelievably painful injuries was more broken bones than I can remember. Later, the surgeon told us he had removed 30 pieces of shattered bone above one of her knees. She was heading into surgery in a few hours – as a high risk and at age 79.

I called another sister who was with mom. She answered in a whisper. I asked her to put the phone to Mom’s ear. Words tumbled out of my mouth at a pace I couldn’t stop. “Listen Mom – I want you to know how much I love you – I’m half way there – I’m coming Mom – but if you don’t come out of surgery – if you don’t want to – if you want to go see Daddy – if you see Jesus holding His hand out to you – YOU GO. I know where to find you and I will see you when it is my time!”

Uncontrollable, hysterical tears and sobs drew me into the shape of a hunched over woman, standing in the middle of the busy terminal – alone. People passed by me on moving sidewalks, announcements informed passengers of gate changes, final boarding calls echoed around me. The terminal was overflowing with thousands of people rushing to their gates – and no one saw me. I felt invisible and alone.

As my sobbing eased, I was able to stand upright, and I heard God’s words to me that I was not alone on this journey. In Exodus 18:18, Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro explains to him he does not have to do his appointed task alone. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone. Sometimes I am able to share my burdens as I did in the middle of the airport that morning holding hands in prayer with strangers. Sometimes it is just God and me. Yet this world would love to rob me of the peace I find – convincing me once again how painful alone is.

Two weeks have now passed since the day of that devastating phone call. It is three in the morning. I am sitting in my mom’s living room in our family farm house. We brought her home last evening with hospice. My sisters, sister-in-law and I are taking turns sitting with her. Our task these days is to be by her side.

I found one of my sisters in the kitchen and another in the living room. I asked them if I could read this to them and did. One of them told me to go and read it to Mom. I cried as I read these words to her and she smiled at me. She understood.

My precious mother has suffered unimaginably. Yet the peace that fills this room reminds us we are not walking alone. We cannot handle it alone; God carries each of us. Please be conscious of the ways God moves in our lives. Sometimes He sends people to us unexpectedly and they are His touch and sometimes we stand physically alone yet filled with His peace and sometimes God uses us to ease the burden of others. God bless.

Numbers 6:24-26
24 “The LORD bless you and keep you; 25 the LORD make his face shine upon you
and be gracious to you; 26 the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace.”

2 Responses to “Heavy, Heavy, Heavy (Part one of two)”

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