My husband had to work on Friday, so I decided to take all the kids with me to the homeschool conference. The two middle girls would be in the kids program all day, while the big kids would help me with the two younger boys. By 3:00 I still had not listened to any sessions, the boys were crying, and I was exhausted. I decided to leave the older kids at the conference to finish listening to the sessions (and I wanted them there in case the girls needed something) and take the little boys home for some rest.
As I was driving home, I got the call.
It was my mom. I had been waiting to hear from her and I suppose the timing was something only God could orchestrate. The scans showed that her breast cancer has returned and has spread to other parts of her body. The tears began to flow and I can’t remember the rest of the phone call. In fact, the rest of the day is a blur.
My mom is my very best friend. Our family has spent the last 20 years moving all around the world, making new friends and leaving them. Even with social media and email, it has been hard to remain close to the friends I have made. But my mom has always been there. She has been “the constant” over the years. The first one I call when I need to talk, when something exciting is happening, or when the days get hard.
And while I can’t remember much about the rest of that day, I do remember what I said to my oldest daughter, who is very close to my mom.
I told her that this is it.
This is where the rubber meets the road in the Christian walk. This very moment is what sets apart the non-Christians from the Christians. We may sin. We may stumble and fall. The world might say, “they say that are a Christian, but look how they live”.
But this is our defining moment. When death stares us in the face, we have hope. We have hope in the forgiveness of our sins. We have hope in eternal life. We have hope in Jesus Christ. And while sadness may overtake us for the moment, it is the hope that will sustain us until we meet again in eternity.
After that call, I suddenly older. It was as if in that moment, I realized that we are indeed mortal. In that instance, I could feel myself being rooted up from this world. On Saturday during the conference, a sweet family we know performed before the keynote speaker. The song they chose to sing expresses my feelings exactly…
This world is not my home I’m just a passing through
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door
And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore
The kids and I have been packing. We are going to be moving back to Texas. We are hoping that my mom will be able to receive treatment at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.
It is amazing when you see God working in such magnificent ways. Last October, when we moved here to Kansas, I was heart-broken over the fact that we weren’t able to buy a house and settle down here. I didn’t know at that time that the Lord was keeping us freed up, so that I would be able to pick up and move back to Texas.
So here we are again, moving…our fifth move in 38 months (thanks Kendra for keeping track). But we are grateful that the Lord has always provided and led the way. I am so thankful that we can spend this time with my mom. So while I am packing and getting ready, I am also researching healthy foods that I can make to nourish her body.
I would appreciate prayers for our family. As my husband held me on Sunday (by Sunday I was a mess), he said something that has eased my heart. “Jasmine, we have a hard road ahead of us, but by the grace of God we will get through it.” And we will.
To God be the glory…