The sound of her heavy breathing rides the silence, engaging me from my left side. I glance over at her. Not asleep but eyes closed; an all too familiar state in recent days. Her left hand is raised over her head. Her fingers run through her hair. Slowly, she lowers her arm down to her side. Gripping the giant stuffed bear that cuddles her entire right side, she runs her fingers up and down its soft fur. Then back to her hair. Now the bear again. Back and forth.
I watch her in silence. Her motions coming in a constant, restless manner.
Pain, I wonder? Boredom? Anxiety?
Hard to tell, but no, I decide. Just restless energy. The tactile sense she receives seems to be a comfort to her.
A mixture of emotion ripple through me like an ocean current, the force of which threatens to yank me out to sea.
Rising, I go to her side. Taking her hand in mine, I inquire, “You ok?”
“Yeah.” She murmurs back. She opens here eyes now. Her gaze is fixed on me but her focus is somewhere else. The emptiness in her eyes, in her gaze, in her understanding haunts me. She is there, but not. She is present but absent.
How many weeks of this have we endured? How long has this slow death eaten away at her? How many tears have I shed; has she shed.
In my minds eye, I see the memory, clear as day. Just weeks ago. Her and me, standing in the driveway. Her agitation necessitating a walk. An all too common consequence of her dementia. Mixed now with grief over my father’s recent passing, which was all too fresh. Her mind lucid for a moment. Her words echoing in my mind now.
“I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
Tears streaked from both our eyes as I held her, standing in the middle of the driveway with the sun shining down on anything but a cheerful moment.
A week later…another memory…sitting together on the front porch. More agitation. More grief. More lucidity.
I remember thinking how hard these moments were; to see my mother for a moment….and then gone again.
The tears we shed then, sitting on the porch. The torrents that poured from me later when I came in and found my wife and her embrace.
The words of the prayer I prayed. Words begging for comfort, for contentment, for strength in this long fight. One now made harder by the unexpected passing of her husband of 48 years.
The words she prayed after me; clear, lucid, and drenched with a passion for God. Something to the affect of, “Give me the strength to endure and honor you in this battle.” The infrequent moment of clarity she displayed sent shockwaves through me. The request of her words for grace to honor God, and not those for deliverance, battered me. I wept in both sorrow and joy.
That is the momma I miss. There she is. For a brief moment.
And then gone again.
I come back to the present. Tears threatening to spill over. Gripping her hand more tightly now I speak softly, but clearly.
“I love you Momma. Don’t forget that. Whatever else you may forget, do not forget this. I love you.”
Leaning up, I kiss her forehead and then back away to my seat once more; stationed just at her side, never far away. Never close enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How long, O Lord, must suffering endure?
How long, O Lord, must this slow death persist?
Why, O Lord, do you tarry and not come for us?
Why, O Lord, does the burden we are called to carry seem so much?
Why do others get long years together
And others, like us, get them cut way too short?
Why do others get sweet moments of coherent joy in the parting
While others, like us, are met with a bitter, hard goodbye
Filled with trouble and trial?
How long, O Lord, will you stand for the enemy
To create such havoc in your creation?
RISE O LORD and push back the enemy
Death may be defeated, but rise now and eradicate it forever!
Rise O Powerful King and set right the things which are wrong
Fix the things which are broken
And glorify your name in the doing!
End the suffering of your creation!
End the suffering of your saints!
Usher in the glory that is yours!
And bring all creation into the enjoyment of your being!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I put down my pen. The tears streaming down my cheeks now. Snot dangles from my nose and I reach for a tissue. Too late though, for even as I bring the tissue to my face, I see the string of mucus detach, dropping to the floor beneath me. Wiping my face and nose, I let the tears and anguish stampede forth with destructive force.
My body shudders from the convulsive tears that pour out of me. The words of the lament I just penned draining me of strength and leaving me empty.
I glance back at my mother now. Sleeping. Soundly.
“How long, O Lord…”
The question hangs, dangling before me. I feel exhausted. Spent. Weary.
My gaze lengthens. The window beyond my mother comes into focus. The landscape beyond that like a beacon demanding my attention.
Multicolored leaves of Autumn hang on the trees, drift through the air, and lay on the ground where they have fallen. The view is breathtaking and exquisite. Despite the sorrow in my soul and the weariness of my flesh, I take in the beauty. I allow it’s splendor to fill me with wonder.
A grace from God. A reminder of His presence, of His beauty. This is His gift to me. A momentary distraction. A glimpse into His majesty.
I take it all in.
The colors.
The gentle breeze.
The sun shining on and through it all.
The marvel of all God has made.
Such beauty calms me and stills me soul even as my gaze passes over the looming death in front of me.
The breeze shifts and rustles and a new plumage of leaves drift to the ground. I cannot take my eyes off the beauty of this season; a beauty that was created by the same God I now cry out to.
Then it hits me.
His Spirit quickens within me.
And I gasp. Audibly. My soul takes the punch, stepping back (as it were) from the concussive shock of insight, understanding that rushes over me.
Death.
The color of the leaves….
They are colored precisely because they are dying.
The very beauty that we adore and admire during the Autumn season is the beauty of death. The leaves drifting to the ground now, in their various, multicolored kaleidoscope are dead.
Every year we stand in awe of, delight in, and find enjoyment from the dying of leaves that these trees kept healthy and green all summer long. We plan amusement and enjoyment during this change of season. Photographers catalogue the beauty of marbled and painted landscapes at the height and peak of this change.
We celebrate and delight in death.
And then the living word hits me.
Psalm 116:15 (ESV): 15 Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.
Death is beautiful.
Death, for the saints of God, for my mother, is beautiful.
God delights in His saints death in the same manner that we delight in the death of leaves. The portraits created by death in Autumn are nothing compared the beauty that God is preparing with the death of His saints.
A fresh wave of tears washes over me. I have long cherished this verse, but now, looking out at the leaves of this changing season, I see it visually. I see it more fully. I see God.
And his answer to my lament comes.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1)
A time for living and a time for dying.
A time for suffering and a time for deliverance
This suffering and death will pass. It will come to an end.
In a trembling but fiercely confident voice, I breath, “I trust you, Abba. I trust your timing. You make all things beautiful, in your time.”
Even as a fresh wave of tears erupts, peace fills my heart. Abba has her. He has me. He has us. He is good and trustworthy. Death is beautiful for His saints. And in the long process, he is painting a tapestry of beauty in us that will be for His glory.
Paint away, O divine artist. And when you are done, bring an end to the suffering and death.
Until then, and even now….I choose trust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How long, O Lord, must suffering endure?
How long, O Lord, must this slow death persist?
Why, O Lord, do you tarry and not come for us?
Why, O Lord, does the burden we are called to carry seem so much?
Why do others get long years together
And others, like us, get them cut way too short?
Why do others get sweet moments of coherent joy in the parting
While others, like us, are met with a bitter, hard goodbye
Filled with trouble and trial?
How long, O Lord, will you stand for the enemy
To create such havoc in your creation?
RISE O LORD and push back the enemy
Death may be defeated, but rise now and eradicate it forever!
Rise O Powerful King and set right the things which are wrong
Fix the things which are broken
And glorify your name in the doing!
End the suffering of your creation!
End the suffering of your saints!
Usher in the glory that is yours!
And bring all creation into the enjoyment of your being!
Nevertheless, O Lord…
Here in the waiting
I will trust.
For you are good
Faithful
And true.
You are wise and loving
And all you do is right and good
Thus, I will trust you
Even while I wait
A Singular Passion 
This is beautiful. My beloved Steve’s faith became sight in March. It is hard to left behind, but God’s plan is always perfect. I KNOW that one day soon, I will be taking that journey and I look forward to it. What joy to think about Steve and me, going hand in hand to our Saviors feet to worship Him together as we did for 53 years.
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