My Mother’s Journey

The following is an update on my mother and her life since I wrote my original testimony.

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There are lyrics that sometimes come to mind when I think of my mother – “I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger…”

My mother tried to maintain some sense of normalcy in my early childhood. I see pictures of her looking radiant and beautiful on their wedding day, and she worked with the Phoenix Mountains Preservation Council and led our Girl Scout troop. 

At the same time she looked like an active, productive woman, wife, and mother, she was also playing with ouija boards, tarot cards, and seeing things none of the rest of us saw.  Her mind and personality began to change, or perhaps be revealed. At some point her health began to decline, and her past collided with the spiritual darkness she dabbled in, and it all came back to haunt her, and all of us. 

As a child, though, all I knew was my mother didn’t love me. By the time I was 17 and left home at her request, irreversible damage had been done to our whole family.

After I was saved several years later, I tried desperately to have some kind of relationship with her. I prayed for her salvation. I invited her to church and to a women’s retreat. But it always went horribly, painfully wrong. And I knew if I was ever going to have a chance to heal, I was going to have to let go of my desire to have a relationship with my mother. That dream would have to remain a dream. And so it was.

My mother had always agonized over tragedies she’d endured as a child, a teenager, and a young adult, but it was not that long ago that one of her sisters told me that as a child my mother had once purposely jumped in front of car. Something had been wrong for a long time, maybe from the womb. I do know she held a lot of pain inside her mind and heart. 

The longer I lived the more I came to understand the effect all that pain could have on a person, especially when that person doesn’t know Christ. And the more I walked with Christ, the more He gave me the ability to forgive her. And the more I was able to forgive her, and He began to heal my own mind and heart and fill them with His grace and mercy, the more empathy I had for my mother.

Then one early morning I got a call from my sister saying our mother’s health was severely declining, that she probably wouldn’t be with us much longer, and did I want to go see her? I opened God’s Word and prayed about it over the next hour or so, asking Him to speak to my heart and show me what to do. His still, small voice prompted me to go. 

We visited her in the assisted living place she now called home.  I sat on her bed in front of her with my new mind and new heart, and told her I loved her. She laid there and looked me in the eyes with a slight smile on her face. What little she did try to say my sister had to interpret.  I held her hand and we just looked at each other. She wasn’t throwing things, screaming, or calling me names. She was looking at me with love in her eyes. We were able to communicate a bit, and had a picture taken of the three of us. That day was the only good memory I have of my mother, and I am grateful the Lord allowed me to have it.

Though in the past she’d claimed to be a Christian, I never saw any fruit of it, so I continued to pray the Lord would have mercy on her. He knew the truth, whether she had ever been converted or not, and I trusted Him to do what needed to be done for the salvation of her soul. 

I was able to make a couple more trips to see her, once while her eyes were still open, and again after she’d slipped into unconsciousness. Still, I knew my God wasn’t limited to our state of awareness of this world, and I continued to pray.  I prayed the Lord would not let her go until she had received Him as Lord and Savior and was filled with the redeeming, sealing, promised Holy Spirit.

The nurses said she didn’t have much longer, yet she continued to live, and I continued to pray.  A trained hospice worker said she probably wouldn’t live more than 24 hours, yet she continued to live, and I continued to pray. Wherever her mind and heart were in this state, Jesus was there.  And maybe He had her attention more during that time than ever before. Over the next week I kept praying for mercy, for grace, and for saving faith to fill her. And then one day, she was gone.  

Only God knows what happened in those twilight hours, but I am trusting He heard my prayers.

And I am trusting that one day we will all be together again, perfected in Christ and filled with love for one another the way we were always meant to be, basking in the joy of Christ forever and ever.

For His Glory,