A Time for Everything

Forty days from today will be the eighth anniversary of my mother's death.  As of today, I have lived without her for 2,880 days. How is this even possible? I miss her every single day. Some days, like certain anniversaries (her birthday is the absolute hardest for some reason, with the day of her death a close second), the loss crashes down on me anew, the weight of it huge and consuming and unmanageable all over again.  Right around this time every year, my heart becomes tender, tears are always waiting, and my mind wanders back to her last days. I have learned over these last 2,880 days that I must anticipate all of this and prepare for each of these painful days.

While my relationship with my mother became more complicated the older I got (whose doesn't?), my favorite times to remember with her are when I was very little. Before her marriage crumbled, before the world beat us both down, before we both got lost. When I was very little, my dad would go to work, and my mother and I would drop my brother off at school, and then she and I would go home and I would have her ALL TO MYSELF. I was so selfish with her love back then! She would make me cheese toast and I would watch Captain Kangaroo on our little black and white t.v. as the morning sun shone brightly through the living room window, and everything was right with the world. She was my safe place then.  

As I look back on the 41 years I had with my mom, I so deeply understand Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. I can read that passage and see my mom's life - and mine - in every single line. There is a time for everything. Wherever I am at any given moment is where I am meant to be. Life is a journey. There are no shortcuts. We are all in process. We are each God's masterpiece (Ephesians 2:10) and a work in progress (Philippians 1:6) at the same time. My mom and I could never have made it to that beautiful place of peace at the end of her life if we hadn't both gone through all the struggles and difficulties and, yes, mistakes that happened along the way. All of those painful things made us into women who were able to be humble and repentant and willing to allow God to mend our relationship back into something holy and precious. 

So today, as I look forward to this poignant anniversary, I thank Him that He never gave up on us. I thank Him that I have those happy memories to hold onto. I thank Him even for the bad memories of the ways we once hurt each other, because it was through all the heartache that He has made me who I am. I cling to Him now as my safe place, and rest in the knowledge that wherever I find myself, no matter how difficult or painful it may be, it will ultimately be for my good. (Romans 8:28) For everything there is a season,  and Jesus will be with me through it all, healing and loving and staying.

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
4     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)