Happy Birthday, Mom!
I’ve been thinking lately about phases of your life I have observed and your indelible influence on me. There’s plenty to remember and my heart is full.
I remember you sitting down at the piano in the living room to play The Love of God for no one but you. While you made no claims to being a pianist, that hymn apparently spoke to your heart and thinking through it again at the piano was good for your soul.
As a child, I rolled my eyes every time you started in on it, provided you couldn’t see me. But it’s a favorite of mine too now, maybe because I’ve lived long enough to have experienced first-hand the depth of the text. I know it by heart – thanks for introducing The Love of God to our family repertoire.
The Love of God
I’ve paused to remember your telling us of some of the storms you weathered as a girl, watched you as my mom and as those years as pastor’s wife with Dad. Then as Jack’s wife and caregiver; both of whom are in glory now. I admire today how you’re determinedly pacing yourself through chemo and radiation treatments to beat cancer.
Each storm presents its own set of challenges, but you’ve steadily leaned on your Savior for strength and stability. Your kids learned from watching you, Mom, and we’re following your example.
I hope that It Won’t Rain Always, sung by one of my favorite singers, herself a cancer survivor, reminds you of your own quiet faith, shines a light on the strength that’s grown out of that faith, and encourages you. The day before Thanksgiving, your last chemo treatment, is almost here. We’re proud of you!
It Won’t Rain Always
You and Dad sang a lot of duets together, and I could hardly wait for the day I was able harmonize too, maybe even get to join in. Until Then was a favorite of our friends in Western Nebraska and I remember you singing it often, even for audiences of two or three. Here it is, with orchestra and chorus, plus a little surprise tucked in near the end.
Enjoy today, Mom, like your friends and family enjoy you!
The world is a better place because you’re here.
Thanks for sharing your faith –generously– all these years.