Mom

I will travel this weekend to Georgia to celebrate the life of my mom, who passed away just before Christmas. 

A Celebration of Life service. That’s what we’re calling it. Because that’s what my mom wanted. She was quite clear on this matter. She didn’t want a funeral. She didn’t want people mourning for her. 

As a Christian, she was very certain on her eternal destination and she wanted everything, in her life and death, to reflect that. There will be music, people sharing tributes, and a message given by her pastor. 

If that sounds similar to a funeral, I agree. But semantics aside, let me share with you a few more things about my mom. Along the way, you might learn a few things about why I function the way that I do.

As I’ve considered my mom’s legacy, a few words have come to mind.

Steadfast

My mom knew what she believed, lived what she knew to be true, and didn’t really care what anyone else thought about it. I have no inclination to remember my mom as some perfect person. She’d freely admit that she made mistakes and often fell short of her ideals. 

But if she read it in the Bible, there was no debating the matter with my mom. God said it, she believed it, that settled it. I’m pretty sure she even had a T-shirt that proclaimed just that. One of her many Christian T-shirts. 

Giving 

From my childhood until she died, she was always wanting to serve. My mom went to college during my teen years to receive her license to teach. Though she never ended up with her own classroom in the public schools, she always had a platform with children. 

In the public school system, she worked many years as a teacher’s aide and para-professional. In the church, she was always running Children’s Church, teaching a Sunday School class, or planning a VBS. During my teen years, she also helped with the youth ministry, coaching Bible Quizzing and traveling on countless youth trips. (Yeah, a mom on the youth group trip, every teenage boy’s dream.)

When her body began to betray her in recent years, she would often tell me that if she couldn’t physically be working with children, either in the church or in schools, then she was ready to go. Retirement wasn’t a word she believed in and she had no interest in sitting around, unable to serve. 

Responsible

If my mom volunteered to do something, it was as good as done. This also meant that if she voluntold our family for something, she would make sure it was completed. My mom never tired of saying that if you start something, then you need to finish it.

If the church doors were open, my family was there. Oftentimes, it was because my mom had volunteered to open the doors. While I don’t believe she ever said early is on time and on time is late, we were always early. Church was never a spectator event for my mom, and she was a catalyst for making sure our family was involved...super-involved. 

Loving

I know, I know, this can mean lots of things to lots of people. To be precise, my mom was lovingly truthful. If it meant telling her favorite son (that’s me!) that she thought he just said or did something stupid, she would do so. 

She would also be the first to remind me that I’m her only son, so telling people I was her favorite son was silly. (Again, semantics. She also didn’t say I wasn’t her favorite son.) 

My mom loved children. She absolutely knew it was her calling to share the gospel with them, week in and week out. She would teach them songs and hand motions so they could learn the truth of God’s love for them. And she did her best to model it. 

But her love was not soft. If a child needed correction, she offered it. Love sometimes meant justice, and she didn’t play favorites, even for her favorite son. (I promise that is the last time I’ll mention it.)

Hard-working

In these past few weeks, I have thought a lot about both of my parents, because they were resilient in their love for one another and their shared ideals in raising their children. My dad passed almost 15 years ago, and I could use many of these words to describe him as well. 

Hard-working is definitely one that described them both. They didn’t always have jobs they liked. But they always did what was necessary to provide for their family. They found ways to bless us children with gifts and trips. 

When I sat with my mom, just before she died, there were many things I considered saying. I told her I loved her. I thanked her for the way she raised me. But, perhaps most importantly, I reminded her of the truth of scripture. 

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” ~Revelation 21:4

Lastly, I reminded her that Jesus would be there to greet her as He promised in the Matthew 25 parable, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.’

Well done, mom, well done.