The words of our soul are not easily translated into a language as we know it. There are spiritual matters that can only be shared or discerned spirit to spirit. There are things that you cannot speak of, or reduce to a language understood by others until Christ has healed the pain your heart carries. I believe I can do this now. I believe I can speak on the months preceding my mother’s death now. I have carried the weight of this time and mother’s suffering within my heart for a long time speaking only to Jesus about it. Now it is time.
Momma was dying. I was eight hundred miles away but God told me so. He woke me before dawn; seven times I would rise from bed, fall to my knees and raise my hands to God sobbing from the depth of my soul in unmentionable grief. For seven days He spoke to me of Momma’s impending death. I begged Him not to take my Momma. When that did not work, I became angry and I yelled at Him. When that did not work, I tried to bargain with Him, telling Him all that I would relinquish if only He would not take my Momma from me. Stomping through each room of the big single level house I had bought specifically with her in mind, I yelled at God. Each day I would end up in the lovely bedroom I had furnished just for her, exhausted, from my antics, I would lay on her bed hugging her pillow tightly. The bed that she would only spend one week in, the bed I would not let another soul to sleep in, there I would lie and quietly ask for His forgiveness for my performance.
I wasn’t ready for her to go. I wasn’t the best of daughters. She wanted so much for me and I had disappointed her so many times with the foolish choices I had made with my life. I knew she was the only earthly rock I had and I needed time. I needed time to make up for my foolishness and my selfishness. I needed time to show her I really and truly was a daughter she could be proud of. Most of all I simply could not envision life without her in my world. If there was anything good in me, if truth be told, it was because of her.
Even as a child, God would reveal things to come to me. I knew Momma’s death was imminent. He had revealed the death of my best friend’s mother to me at the age of fourteen, and that’s when I told Him I did not want to see these things anymore and He honored my request for a time. Now He was preparing me to give my Momma to Him.
Each morning thereafter, not knowing what else to do, not having anyone to share my visions or my feelings with, I would head to the park and run around the track that circled the lake. I did not want to think about Momma leaving me so I ran faster and faster, trying to erase the memory of what lie ahead.
Eventually, gently He told me to stop running; to walk. He told me that I had a long journey ahead of me. He told me to slow down and observe the signs along the way that would direct my path.
There were directional signs all along track – “stop, slow down, cross here, don’t throw trash, pick up litter” – I paid little attention to these signs until I began to walk instead of run around the track. God showed me that just as there were signs providing directions at key places around the track, He would provide the directions for me on this journey I would take. He told me to walk and not run. He told me to take my time that I would arrive at my destination whether I ran or walked but that going slowly, patiently; He would show me the way.
There were many geese and ducks that made the lake their home, but one day, God pointed out a single solitary duck. This duck was gliding along slowly, easily, so effortlessly, moving through the water so peacefully, so gently. Through the water however, when I looked closely, just beneath the surface, I saw the duck’s feet moving rapidly, propelling him forward, belying what I saw on the surface. God told me that He would be the propeller under the surface, holding me up, moving me forward on my journey. God showed me my journey would be just as peaceful and effortless as was this solitary duck.
With this vision, I began to prepare to let Momma go. I knew I would not be alone.
I am a kept woman.
I am kept by a power you cannot see unless you look carefully.
This I know.