28 October 2008

Attitude Adjustment

Perspective and attitude adjustment time. Sometimes we get our heads down so far that we forget to lift our gaze. Mine was yanked upward today quite suddenly, and I wanted to share the insight.

Some time ago my mother passed away. She was the kindest, gentlest, most truly Christian person I have ever known. She had the gift of purest faith, and her love for life and for everyone around her shone from her eyes all the time. No, she wasn't perfect, of course, but she came about as close to it in this life as anyone could. We all miss her very much.

This afternoon I was working away on a business project of some significance. I needed to send an updated document draft to some colleagues, and opened my e-mail drafts folder to find the message I'd started earlier. I scrolled down through the list of drafts and suddenly stopped when I saw—of all things—an e-mail from my mother, from about three years ago. I had no idea it was even there.

I opened it up and began to read. Instantly her gentle voice filled my mind. I could hear her speak the words on the page. It was chatty and upbeat, just like she always was, talking about this and that, family events, challenges, and hopes for the future. She said she didn't know what that future would bring, but that she trusted in God our Father to make everything turn out for the best. At the end, she said I love you, son.

That's when I lost it. I dissolved into the rest of the tears that I had held back ever since she passed away. To make things even more intense, at the same moment I was listening to Lauridsen's Lux Aeterna, just this week recommended to me by a fellow blogger, and truly some of the most gloriously ethereal and heavenly music I've ever heard. It was like the perfect soundtrack for hearing the voice of an angel, the kind of music I imagine now surrounds her all the time.

One stack of Kleenexes later, when I could see well enough to write again, I realized I needed to record the experience. The waterworks continue as I write, but at least I can see the screen.

It really was like being surprised by an angel. An angel I knew, and that I knew loved me. She is not here now, but I heard her voice just the same. With a message of love and assurance. Things will be okay. Have faith. Hang on. Be patient, and be strong. You aren't alone. You are loved by more than you know. Life goes far beyond what you can see. The tapestry of eternity is gloriously colorful and infinite. Trust that its creator has His purposes for you and everyone. Reach out with your hands and your heart to others whose strength you need, and whom you can strengthen. Even when you are lonely and feel alone, you are loved.

We all have tough times, and I know some in “the family” are having some right now. Forester, October, Bror, Cadence, Josh, all of my other brethren who struggle sometimes, are you reading this? Listen to my mom. She always knew what she was talking about.

Thanks Mom. Someday I will will be able to thank you in person again. And I will introduce you to a lot of my friends that I love and who you helped too.

Love
Your Son

4 comments:

Serendipity said...

In August, about a month after Scott came out to me, one Sunday afternoon he and I were marveling at how well I had handled everything. During the discussion, I had the distinct feeling that not only was God strengthening me, but I was also getting strength and understanding from Scott's mother, who died when he was 13. I never knew her.

I immediately went to Scott and gave him a hug and said through my tears, "That is from your Mom."

I don't know what eternal perspective she has that I don't have, but I know that the peace I felt at that time was from her, and that she knew that everything was going to be fine.

Beck said...

This really hits home. I lost my father a few months ago, and when I call my mom now and it rolls to the answering machine, my father's voice is still on the machine. It freaks me out and makes me tear up just hearing his voice. I want her to remove it, but she isn't ready to do so.

Thanks for the post.

Alan said...

I know exactly how you feel Beck. She has been gone for a while now but Dad hasn't changed the voicemail greeting on their cell phone. I call and I hear her voice saying her name" and then the system says "is not available right now."

And I think "perfect, that's right, she's just not available right now, she's gone somewhere else for a while, but it's only temporary."

We've all told Dad "don't change the voicemail greeting. Ever."

Bravone said...

Alan, Thanks for sharing this tender mercy with us. It has caused me to reflect about those I love. I need to do a better job of letting them know while I still have the chance. I always appreciate your perspective.