A year

Today I realized that it is one year since I last talked to my mom. It was Sunday morning for her and Sunday afternoon for me. We talked about my visit the next week, made plans for our schedule together. We talked about the great sale prices that she found the day before and said she'd go pick up some skirts and pants for me too after church that day. I don't remember what else we talked about, but we were excited for me visit the following week.

That week following the conversation we had a guest and no internet most of the week. Saturday we had internet again and Sunday I tried to call again, only getting the answering machine, wondering where she could be. A few hours later my brother called saying she'd had a stroke. I boarded the plane knowing she was home with Jesus.

So this week is the anniversary of my mom's death in this world, but her advancement to Heaven. I love that my mom is in heaven. Each time I hear that someone has died, I see my mom greeting them and sitting down to talk with them. I see her free of pain and grief and I see her worshiping Jesus--live and in person.

But I also miss her so much. Today I was talking about the Home of Hope with a friend and I thought, "I'd love to call mom, tell her what I'm learning, ask her to pray." The girls do something cute or learn something new and I want to tell her what is happening with them. I want her to see Elissa playing the violin or all of them at the piano (she couldn't sing, but loved music). I want to call her for recipes. I want her to meet my dog. She loved dogs.

There is a lot on my plate here this week. Much is happening at the Home of Hope. Andy is traveling. But what I asked in prayer for this week is for myself, for my siblings (there are 6 of us), for my children, my nieces and my nephews, who will all once again grieve this week for the loss of Mom and Grandma.

An update on my dad is that he has needed greater medical care as he is now unable to walk or move himself (he only has movement of his right arm so he can still feed himself). Last week he was moved to a nursing home and is doing okay, but on most days he doesn't remember that my mom died.

Thanks for your prayers. I'm blessed by those praying for us. It truly is our strength for the work we do.