Myhealedheart’s Weblog

Each year, as Mother’s Day approaches, I experience a mix of sorrow and joy. 

At six, I lost my mother Karin Kelly to cancer.  It was a long, ravaging decline for her – I watched as my vibrant, beautiful mother – who loved me with the passion only a mother could muster - slipped away from me.  The visits to the hospital were confusing, infused with the odor of hospital disinfectant and the comforting fragrance of her warm, black German skin and deep brown hair lightly scented with Charlie and pain medication seeping from her pores.  I could unconsciously sense in her the desperate battle waging to stay just a bit longer to have a few more moments with her children and the longing to be free of her failing, cancer-riddled body.  She passed away (it is still hard for me to use any other term) in my father’s arms, relieved at his assurances that he would care for her children always.  Her battle was over, mine was just beginning.

My six-year-old brain and heart struggled with how to handle this abandonment by the one who loved me most.  My foundation was gone.  I was no longer moored to anything substancial.  Who would love me so dearly, so completely without reservation ever again?  How could I trust that others who say they love me would not also leave me?  In my fear, I withdrew yet tried desperately to reach out too, in attempts to fill the hole left there by such all-encompassing loss. 

The journey from that time to today has been a long one.  My reaching out and trying to fill the space left by my mother’s death has often been destructive and painful; my heart is bruised from many misguided attempts to soothe the pain. 

While these pains are fresh and new each Mother’s Day, they are no longer overwhelming most of the time.  I still have moments of sadness that leave me feeling as if I might blow apart – an imagined relief that is sometimes comforting to entertain – to be free of the sorrow.  But what I know now is this – no one, not even my mother, can love me as completely, as thoroughly as Jesus.  For Him to have sought me for 33 years is true love.  For Him to have suffered separation from The Father so that I might experience this love, freedom, peace is indescribable. 

What does one do in the face of such great love?  He tells me in Matthew 11:28 that he will give me rest -”Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”, to be still in Psalm 46:10 – “Be still and know that I am God..”, to enjoy it, to appreciate it, to be grateful for it by living my life for Him, and that He is close to the brokenhearted - ”The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)  He also promises that He will hold me close – “Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.” (Psalm 27:10) 

I hope to be a mother some day, to experience that kind of love and to carry on the best of what my mother gave me.  Until then and even beyond though, I will remember that despite the loss of my mom, I am loved.

In Him –

Sue