My heart was heavy. As the elevator doors opened and I saw my brother standing in the hospital hallway, I knew she was gone. The nurses had called at 1:50 a.m. telling me to come quickly, but I arrived at the hospital just minutes after my mother had passed away.
I drew near to her bedside—running the back of my fingers over her cheek—still warm to the touch. We spoke in hushed tones, out of a sense of reverence I suppose. Part of me wanted to cry, but as I stood there looking at my mother’s face, I began to smile.
I couldn’t help but share in the joy she must have been feeling in that very moment. I envisioned the sweet reunion she was having with my dad who had died some 23 years earlier. She was probably filled with motherly love and happiness at being able to see once again the face of my older brother, John, whom we had lost to leukemia nearly 10 years ago. And to see her beloved parents and sister must have been absolutely wonderful.
Oh, the joy…of knowing she was standing face to face with Jesus. I took comfort and shared in the pure joy she was in the presence of our Lord and Savior. There was no room in my heart for sorrow just then. Although the physical evidence of death was present, the heavenly hope and the joy of eternity with God was just as genuine. God had called mom home and I’m sure she ran into His arms.
Jesus reminded Martha if she believed she would see God’s glory. He then gave the people of Bethany a glimpse into His divinity and mighty power when He called Lazarus back to life with a gentle command. What an amazing day. Imagine the rejoicing. Although there were tears that day, even from our Lord, the day ended in joy because of the power of God calling Lazarus to come to Him.
There were tears when we lost my mom, but the greatest comfort was knowing she was a child of the King. It was His voice calling her home. That brought joy.
Accept His gift of love and salvation. Be a part of the everlasting joy.
(Photo courtesy of morguefile and taliesin.)
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