The following article was published in the monthly newsletter of ChristChurch PCA in Atlanta, where David and Elizabeth are members.
by David Dishman
During the weeks around my mother’s death, the Lord has been proving himself to me more than in any time in the past. While grieving, I also worship. I have the strange impulse in the most poignant moments both to weep and shout “Hallelujah!” When Mom died, I was there with Elizabeth, Aunt Shari, Cousin Megan, Brother Peter and my Dad. The nurse had just given her a “bath” in bed and put on new clothes for her. For about the last 18 hours, she had to tilt her head back to inhale each breath because her lungs were filling with fluid that her failing body couldn’t remove. It was so sad seeing my unconscious Mom doing that. All Monday morning she was making the “death rattle” — breathing through fluid she couldn’t clear in her lungs.
After the nurse left, we gathered around her bed. The main nurse had just come in and she told us that Mom was very near the end. Dad kissed her lips and told her he loved her so much. Then she stopped breathing. I could still see her pulse in her neck. Twice she tried to inhale, but couldn’t. Then her pulse stopped. After a moment, Dad said, “Let’s pray.” He prayed. Then we sung a hymn and he closed her eyes. It was rich and tragic, expected and unbelievable. My Mother was gone.
I felt like she decided when to die. In the style of her personality, she waited to “go” until she was perfectly cleaned up, with her hair combed. When Dad kissed her, I thought I saw the hint of a smile on her face, and she gave up her spirit. She was ready. And she knew it was time, so she left the world of cancer behind and was shepherded, I believe, into Glory. The Lord proves himself to us. So many times, I didn’t have the strength to continue caring for her or Dad. But his strength really is made perfect in weakness. When there was conflict with a brother, there was forgiveness and humility — not exactly our normal pattern of relating. This time of weariness and laboring to care for others in my family was so rich. Thinking of my Mom, released from pain, entering into her eternal rest — Hallelujah! Thinking of my Mom, someone I will never see for the rest of my life, and my Dad alone — heartbreak.
Maybe the whole reason for sin and death is so that God can love us in the way only He can. How can you be comforted if you never mourn? How can you be forgiven and redeemed if you never sin? The God of the Universe watched his only natural son die. Did God see him try to take a breath when he couldn’t? Did he see his pulse continue after his breathing stopped? Did he wish he could breathe for him?
Friends at ChristChurch, I am so thankful for the ways you have been like Jesus to our family. Your prayers, comforting words, acts of service and presence in our lives has been a huge blessing to us.
Thank you for being with us in this journey.
Posted by John Dishman at September 3, 2003 09:51 PM