Letting Go

On the first anniversary of my dear mom's homegoing, I have been remembering what it was like to finally "let go".  As many of you are aware, my mom was diagnosed with congestive heart failure at the early age of 67.  Because of her heart not being able to pump efficiently she suffered for the next 9 years with vascular dementia. (This followed the sad and debillitating course of Alzheimer's Disease).  Amazingly enough our entire family pulled together to keep her home with us as long as possible!  At the very end of her life,  she only spent a little over two months in an assisted living center.
While taking care of her I often thought about what it would be like when the time came to say good bye.  I usually pushed this thought out of my mind as quickly as it would appear.  I frankly didn't want to dwell on it. How do I go on without my mom?  She's been there for me forever?   Even when she no longer was able to "mother" me, I in short became her mother.  It was very much like taking care of one's own child.  But even still, she was my mom, and I felt so privileged to be able to return the care that she so lovingly gave to me, my husband,  my children, and her great grandchildren.
The week she began the actual dying process, was probably one of the most emotional times of my entire life.  I knew that very soon, she would no longer be with us.  How was I to say good bye?  How would I handle it?  Would I break down, would I stay strong for my kids, my dad?  Could I let go?
Being the medical power of attorney, that week, I had to (with the input of family members) make the ultimate decision as to whether or not we kept medically intervening, or provided comfort care only.  Even though my mind knew what the answer would be, my heart was fighting against it. 
Towards the end of that week, one day after leaving her side, I came home and began to restlessly pace.  I could not relax, and I had this compelling urge to walk (and run!)  I remember flying out the front door and just taking off.  I didn't know where I was going, but my feet led the way.  As I walked and prayed and cried, I realized God was leading me to my home place.  I walked to the neighborhood that I grew up in, went to my old backyard, sat down, and a flood of memories poured over me.  At the very same time, God clearly gave me a sense of peace.  Some of the memories that rushed back to meet me was my Mom and I sitting at the piano singing her favorite old hymns; sitting on the sofa while she told me about the tent/revival meetings that she had loved going to as a young girl; praying together when she was distraught or missing her brother.  But most of all, I felt God's presence and clearly heard Him speak to me, "It's time child.  It's time to let go and give her back to Me."   When I finally arrived back home later that day I knew in my heart the truth of Hebrews 13:5.
Lo and behold the very next day, my mom's dear nurse, and our dear friend and sister in the Lord, told us that it would only be a matter of hours.   The family members that were able to get here, came to be with her.  Around her bedside there was hymn singing, there was hand holding, there were hugs, tears and enough love shown that it made for a joyous, but sad departure.  Her soul left her physical body surrounded by her beloved grandchildren.  That is testimony in itself of her love for her family and their love for her.  God enabled the "letting go" to be bearable.  "From earth's first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny."

In my devotion this morning I came across this from John MacDuff.  It is so fitting on this day of remembrance.  I pray it may be an encouragement to you who are facing trials, difficulties, or yet grieving a loved one.
The Greatest Gift
"Since God did not spare even His own Son but gave Him up for us all, won't God, who gave us Christ, also give us all things?" Romans 8:32
These are amazing words! God; the Infinite, God; identifying Himself with the experiences of human sorrow; silencing every murmur with the unanswerable argument "I spared not my own Son. I gave my greatest gift for you; will you not cheerfully surrender your best to Me? Can you refuse after this unspeakable gift of My love, to trust Me in lesser things?
 He promised to give "all things"; these "all things" are in His hand. They will be selected and allotted by His loving wisdom; crosses as well as comforts; sorrows and tears, as well as smiles and joys. Mourning one, this very trial which now dims your eye, is one of these "all things." Trust His faithfulness. He would as soon wound the Son of His love as wound you!
"Won't God, who gave us Christ, also give us all things?" There is a "blessed impossibility," after the bestowment of the Gift of Gifts, that He will inflict one unnecessary trial, or withhold one needed benefit. Think of His love when He offered His Isaac on the altar. It is the same at this hour infinite and immutable. Yes! We may well be reconciled, even to the denial of earthly blessedness, because ordered by Him who gave Jesus! Lying meekly in the arms of His mercy, be it ours to say in filial confidence, "Lord, anything with Your love; anything but Your frown!"
 "All things." The whole range of human needs and necessities is known to Him. The care He invites me to cast upon Him is "all my care"; the need "all my need!" This is His own special promise. "And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that you, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work." (2 Corinthians 9:8) He will give me nothing and deny me nothing, but what is for my good. Let me not question the appointments of infinite wisdom. Let me not wound Him by one dishonoring doubt. Let me lean upon Him in little things as well as in great things. After the pledge of His love in Jesus, nothing can come wrong that comes from His hands!  Looking to the Rainbow in the cloud gleaming with the words, "He loved me, and gave Himself for me!" be it mine to say:
Lord, though You bend my spirit low,
Love only will I see;
The very hand that strikes the blow,
Was wounded once for me.

Forever and always and no matter what,
Karen