Her Heart's Desire

Mom's been enrolled with hospice for nearly a week now. While the learning curve is steep and the whole reason for hospice frankly stinks, we've heard one thing loud and clear--

Whatever Mom wants, she gets.

Ice cream for dinner? You got it.

Sunday night gospel singing? How many people can we cram in the living room?

Canasta? Massage? New paint in the kitchen? Done, done and done.

We've done our best, with the help of the amazing nurse Cathey, to quell the nausea and squash the pain. The past couple of days have been good ones. Mom was even able to get out for church and lunch today.

As I look at all the small and silly ways we're trying to spoil Mom, I know she's already received everything her heart truly desires.

A husband who adores her.

Children who follow the Lord.

Friends who walk with her in faith.

The promise of tear-free, pain-free, trouble-free eternity.

A God who has never forsaken her.

So many songs tonight spoke of heaven, so much hope for a bright and wonderful future.

Psalm 37:4 says, "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart."

She has.

And he did.

Breaking Radio Silence

It's been a hard month. So much heartache, so much sorrow. Larry passed away a week and a half ago. Jeanne died suddenly and quite unexpectedly on Friday. And today we heard what we already knew--that Joanne will not last much longer.

I don't do crying well, but I've sure been getting a lot of practice. The smallest thing sets me off. One moment I'm fine, then a fleeting thought of someone I love in pain and I'm off again. In church this morning, it didn't help that I was sitting in the middle of a triangle of grieving spouses. It also didn't help that we sang In Christ Alone.

The last verse always gets me.

No guilt in life, no fear in death,

This is the power of Christ in me.

From life's first cry to final breath

Jesus commands my destiny.

No power of hell, no scheme of man

Can ever pluck me from his hand

Till he returns or calls me home.

Here in the power of Christ I stand.

Late last year, on the day of another friend's death, I ran across the picture above. What a powerful reminder that what is a sad day for us on earth is a happy homecoming for the one who has gone before. Can you see it on Jesus' face?

This morning Craig displayed this picture of another homecoming. In a way, I think this one's more accurate. Such joy, combined with such pain, must give a glimpse of how Jesus feels when we are finally in his arms.

Are you hurting? Can I pray for you? God knows my knees are calloused anyway.