I Skyped with Little Man yesterday. It was obvious our family’s three-year-old has made the switch from Thanksgiving mode to Christmas. Imagine that! Renaissance Man and I, on the other hand, though surrounded by Christmas decorations, are living in limbo. We moved his mother to a hospice facility yesterday … and pray she goes quickly. It would be such a blessing.
It’s interesting what the Eleventh Hour looks like for different people. My mother-in-law, Frances, is a Christian, spent most of her adult life as a pastor’s wife, and for many years has given every indication of being afraid to die. She lived her life doing “the right things” — perhaps in fear of what God might do to her if she didn’t. She’s long been a legalistic, “Bible thumper” (how’s that for a little Southern vernacular?) … and yet she extended grace to me 22 years ago when her 32-year-old, never married, youngest son asked this divorced young woman with two daughters to be his wife. I knew she believed divorce was to be avoided “almost always.” We agreed about that. Even so, she accepted and loved me and my girls; never once judging me or being a “pushy” mother-in-law. She was good to me. I only wish she could have been better to herself … releasing the fear of death and accepting the unmerited favor of her God. I wish she could have better cultivated the relationship of love and acceptance that God offers to every one of us. But I’m thankful that yesterday she found peace in her reality and is ready to meet her Lord.
The Eleventh Hour … Although half way across the continent, we’re receiving regular updates about the friend I told you about HERE. She’s had only half as long a life as Renaissance Man’s mother, but she’s spent much of it embracing the relationship with her Creator and, although sad to leave friends and family “too soon,” she is ready … and joyful. She wonders why she’s still living. One day … any day now … her body will reach the same conclusion as her heart, and she’ll move into her eternity. She’s looking forward to that day!
The Eleventh Hour … The good news is that, to a great extent, we get to choose what ours will look like. Will we be fearful … or ready … when the hour comes? It’s a personal choice, and I made mine a long time ago. My Creator offered me a Christmas gift, and I accepted it. He offers you the same one.