Yesterday in church Pastor Gearl recognized all the moms in the audience. His message was about how important a good mom is to her family and to others. I wish you could have been there with me.
I can’t believe it’s been 11 years since Jesus called you home. I sure do miss you. I can’t count the times I’ve wanted to pick up the phone and call you. I loved to call you and share some way God blessed me, or tell you about something exciting or fun I did that day.
My conversations over the years with you and Dad created some of my most precious memories. Though we spent most of our lives living a thousand miles apart, I loved being able to pick up the phone and connect with you just to chat.
You gave me something few of my friends here share. For almost 60 years you gave me consistency. You stayed married to each other, despite some extremely difficult times. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, or not doing, I could always pick up the phone and dial 712-246-2655. You were always there. I often brag about my hometown and my wonderful growing up years in my loving family to my friends. Most of them marvel at the wonderful childhood I enjoyed in our small Iowa hometown. Many of my friends have never known the consistence and security you and Dad gave me.
I know we didn’t have a perfect life, either. I know I gave you more than my share of grief and heartaches. For all those, I am genuinely sorry.
I have to confess, Mom: the day you died, I was absolutely jubilant. Not because you died, but because I knew where you were. Your suffering from the cancer that took you from us was over. Not only was I jubilant because I knew where you were. I was jubilant because I knew that someday we would be reunited and basking in the love of Jesus in God’s Kingdom forever. We’ll never be apart again. We’ll never know pain or suffering or sorrow or dismay or any other health problems. And you’d never have to fuss at me again to pick up my clothes.
What a glorious day that will be!
Until then, Mom, please know that I love you and miss you still. I am grateful for everything you were to me, everything you gave me, everything you taught me, and everything you did for me.
I will always love you,
Your loving son, Steve
After my “Our family’s close call” post Tuesday, I received this comment from a dear and sweet friend,
“just seconds made the difference and the angels were definitely watching over them!!! praise The Lord!!”
Oh, YES! I agree!
Another fantastic follower commented,
“I think we are all going to stand before Him someday and see all the close calls and near misses and be simply amazed!”
Amen and Amen!
Over the years I’ve listened to a number of amazing accounts of ministering angels from personal friends. Probably the most memorable came from our pastor. A woman approached him after a Sunday morning service and revealed her astonishing encounter.
The women as financially strapped and needed a certain amount of money to resolve a financial matter or face negative consequences. The woman told our pastor that during our prayer time, she was praying and asking God to answer her prayer and meet her need. In the middle of her prayer, she felt a tap on the shoulder. She turned around and a woman behind her handed her an envelop and said, “I believe this is for you.” The woman turned around and opened the envelop. She opened the envelop and counted out the exact amount she needed to resolve her financial crisis. The woman turned to thank the woman behind her but she wasn’t there.
Not only was she not there, but the pew was full. There was no room on the pew for another person to have been sitting.
The Bible speaks more than 90 times about the existence and ministry work of angels. To me, then, it’s difficult for me to deny they exist. Especially when I’ve had personal experience of their ministry and heard first hand accounts of angels working in the lives of people.
I believe understanding angels and understanding God’s grace are both aspects of God’s character and His love for us that we will one day see first hand and understand completely.
I used to live like that.
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