Wait Three Days

On this day, three years ago, my Mom left this world. Shock. Horror. Deep guttural cries: Do not even begin to communicate the terror we experienced in hearing the news. I can still feel the screams deep down in my bones. 

The Dark Side overcame our sweet DeDe. She poured herself out for others.  Leaving nothing to sustain herself. She fought the good fight until there was simply nothing left to give. God rest her sweet soul.

Last Easter these hauntingly telling pictures popped up on my Time Hop, and I was completely floored. Like breath knocked out of me floored. How did we not SEE this? My sweet Mama looked absolutely miserable. So unsettled. So, doing everything she can to hang on. So overcome. I remember saying something rude that day like, "Mom, can't you just smile!?"

Well, no, she couldn't just smile. She was so low.  So overcome by the darkness.  So sad. So worried.  So rat in a cage. So everything that she just couldn't stand to be in this world not one more breath.

Not one more Easter. Not one more Mother's Day. Not one more grandchild's graduation. No seeing boys turn to men. No throwing bridal showers. No kissing newborn great-grands. Not one more of anything. Mama simply couldn't take one more moment of this world.

Hello, Good Friday! I'm swimming in the sadness of your moment. This dark, shadowy day: Where we recall the suffering of God. The betrayal. The brutality. The abuse. The mocking. The wishing there was some other way. The not being able to take one more moment of this world. 

In this dark hour that literally takes my breath away...I am reminded of the only thing we can do when darkness chokes out all hope: 
Wait. Three. Days. 

And in the waiting remember...
The story is not over.
 Death does not get the last word.
 The grave can't hold Jesus back.
Morning will break. 
Sunday is coming.  

Death can rage and threaten and intimate. But it can't overcome. "Oh death...Where is your sting? Where is your victory?"  You talk a big game, but in the end you are nothing but a punk. 

I will not be moved. Though darkness presses in. And the earth shakes. I can smell death all around. I will wait, and even suffer while I wait, but that doesn't change the outcome:

"Nothing can ever separate us from God's love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow-not even the powers of hell can separate us from God's love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below-Indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39


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