Saturday, 04 April 2009
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She lives on in words...
Been unpacking more boxes last night and today. (Yes, I'm slow. Shoot me.) Unpacked some of my mom's journals again. Everytime I do, I can't help but pick one up and start reading somewhere in the middle...very random.
In those journal entries I read, Mom had mentioned how she was praying that my sister Nan and I would become polished, rare gems for Christ, and would share His beauty with others. Mmmm...
Sometimes, it's so hard to read her words. Not because I feel like I've disappointed her or anything...or didn't live up to expecations; though that may be true. No...it's hard to read her words, because I just miss her so. I love reading her journals, and yet, it's like watching a movie like the "Passion of Christ". Just like thats not the kind of movie you cuddle up with to watch, I can't read Mom's journals in a way that's light entertainment. They always hit me somehow...even if it's to say things like, "Started mowing the lawn and almost got done when the handle broke. Guess I'll take it to such and such place tomorrow to get it fixed. But Jesus knows and He'll take care of us." Because somewhere in all the behind the scenes...I know that some days she was facing the delima of getting something broke fixed, or do something more pratical like afford groceries. Yet, even her journals hardly reflected a woman of panic wringing her hands and saying "Oh God what do I doooooo???" Every page was filled with both concern and praise intermingled. You can't separate them out in her writings.
Reading them, I sometimes feel like such a wuss in my faith.
And yet not.
I know if Mom was here, she wouldn't think that at all. No, she'd smile and thank Jesus that her prayers were answered and two rare gems walk this earth.
Which brings me back to another reason her words are hard to read. Because she's not hear to witness those events of our "growing up" still. Maybe we stop growing up physically, as young adults. But we never stopped growing up on the inside....and I wish Mom could see it. Reading her words are always hard for me, for they take me back to a place of grief...a grief that goes undetected as long as her journals stay unopened. And for many days and months they do. And you'd think I'd know better than to crack one open again. But I can't explain it. I search them, looking for some hidden nugget of wisdom or treasure...and each page is pretty much the same of "Praise God, He's taking care of us," or "We're under spiritual attack and we repell that in the Name of Jesus!"
Ahh...Mom. Ever the positive one in your journals, aren't cha?
I miss you...so very much.
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Comments (2)
(((Hugs Holly))) Wonderful to remember and yet sometimes so hard. I was thinking that a couple weeks ago when we were telling dad stories....wish I had his words here to read.
I think the part I miss most is the easy access...just pick up the phone and ta dah "wisdom hotline" would answer. I miss her for our children. I wish they knew her well. I miss her gentleness, her courage, and her tenacity. In my "bop her over the head days" I would say to her...."stop being a martyr" and she would look at me with knowing eyes and smile and I would be busted to the core. She was not a perfect person. She was flawed just like the rest of us, but she was also a women to be praised. proverbs 31:30 Let her children sing her praises in the city gates. We love you Mom. To us you were (and are) a rarity among women!