Jesus, Please Take Your time

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Oh Jesus, please take your time.

The phone call this morning was full of love and concern, but part of it made me cringe. An uncle called from across the country to see how our family was doing. I updated him honestly about my folks, and then he said, “Well, hopefully the good Lord will take her home soon.”

He’s done more care-giving than I have.  He was the only child of his mother, who he cared for while she died of cancer.  At the same time he went through twenty years of fighting cancer with my aunt. He knows more than I do, and maybe someday I’ll have the same thought. I know being with the Lord in heaven will be the gift beyond measure. But I’m in no rush to lose my mama here on earth.

Jesus, please take your time.

I know life would be easier if Mom was with the Lord now.  But we’d miss so much, too.  Mom’s life gives Dad purpose every day and grows his patience strong. His love and devotion for Mom is a beautiful testimony.

Jesus, please take your time.

If Mom were already gone, I would’ve missed this day of memory moments.  This day when I took Mom’s hand in mine, and she looked at me and said, “I like you.”

And then I asked, “Do you know who I am?”

And with no hesitation she calmly answered, “Cheryl.” There was no doubt in her voice.

Jesus, please take you time.

If Mom were already gone, I would’ve missed the interesting little things she said today.  Like when Dad and James came home with groceries and Mom lit up and said, “Hi!”  And then very matter-of- factually added, “We’re crazy.”

A while later she said, “Maybe you did, and maybe I didn’t.”  And “I think Daddy undid what he should have.”  And, “What do you do when you don’t?”

And maybe these are just senseless jumbles that mean nothing. But yet they make me smile and think.

Jesus, please take your time.

If Mom were already gone, I would’ve missed out on our time together on the porch today.  I wouldn’t have combed her silver white hair with my fingers. I wouldn’t have sung hymns with her or sat still next to her observing the day out her window.  I would have missed the long hug and the smell of her freshly washed hair.

Jesus, please take your time.

I don’t want to be selfish.  I don’t want to keep Mom from heaven and the glories of living with God. But these things are in His hands.  The Bible says, “Man’s days are determined; You (God) have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed” (Job 14:5).

So, I will trust Him to call her home at the perfect time. And I will believe that when He leads us into the valley of the shadow of death He will be walking with us, directing us, and comforting us.

And meanwhile, I will gratefully hug Mom and soak her up. I will put my hands on either side of her soft  face, and I will look into her blue eyes, and I will say, “I love you, Mama. I’m here. I’m Cheryl. We’re together today.  You’re my Mom and I love you so much.”

Dear Jesus, please take your time.

(Mama lived another three years after this post, passing away peacefully in December of 2016. I miss her every day, but am grateful she is safe and happy with Jesus and Daddy now.)


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