We were silent, pulling out of the hospital parking lot. How long did she have left? One year? More? What does one say in the face of that kind of prognosis? As we drove west on the freeway, the sun was low on the horizon, and a spectacular blaze of color swept across the evening sky.
“Mom,” I ventured carefully, “you know, you remind me of Sarah, Abraham’s wife.” Her eyebrows shot up and she turned to me with a quizzical smile. “Well,” I shrugged, driving quite literally off into the sunset, “scripture says that when she was 90, the king, well… sent for her, too.” We laughed at my way-out-of-context quote, then turned serious.
“Looks like the King is sending for you, mom.”
“Well,” she said, taking a deep but shaky breath. “Then I guess I better go. Can’t argue with the King.”
Lorrie White passed away on October 15th, here in our house, surrounded by her children. With so many families separated from their elderly loved ones, we felt incredibly blessed to care for her at home, and the memory brings comfort even now. It was a dizzying year. The murder of Scott’s brother in March was a shattering blow for us all. Grief and anxiety contributed to COVID-clumsiness in my runs, and by my third fall I was told I might need surgery for my knee. (Let’s call it a sports-related injury; way cooler.) Our daughter also gave birth only five days after mom’s death. Whiplash emotions.
The baby was a blessed distraction. He reminded us that life goes on, even when it doesn’t.
Our King dealt a death blow to Death itself, and we are the people called to live in “nevertheless” moments of faithfulness during uncertain times. Don’t give up. Stay faithful, stay attentive, stay thankful, stay in community, stay in love with Jesus and with each other. Speak words of affirmation and hope to total strangers, make eye contact with grocery store clerks, grit your teeth and Zoom in, tune in, livestream, lean in - any and every way you can.
Because whomever our King has not yet sent for, He is still sending.
“Mom,” I ventured carefully, “you know, you remind me of Sarah, Abraham’s wife.” Her eyebrows shot up and she turned to me with a quizzical smile. “Well,” I shrugged, driving quite literally off into the sunset, “scripture says that when she was 90, the king, well… sent for her, too.” We laughed at my way-out-of-context quote, then turned serious.
“Looks like the King is sending for you, mom.”
“Well,” she said, taking a deep but shaky breath. “Then I guess I better go. Can’t argue with the King.”
Lorrie White passed away on October 15th, here in our house, surrounded by her children. With so many families separated from their elderly loved ones, we felt incredibly blessed to care for her at home, and the memory brings comfort even now. It was a dizzying year. The murder of Scott’s brother in March was a shattering blow for us all. Grief and anxiety contributed to COVID-clumsiness in my runs, and by my third fall I was told I might need surgery for my knee. (Let’s call it a sports-related injury; way cooler.) Our daughter also gave birth only five days after mom’s death. Whiplash emotions.
The baby was a blessed distraction. He reminded us that life goes on, even when it doesn’t.
Our King dealt a death blow to Death itself, and we are the people called to live in “nevertheless” moments of faithfulness during uncertain times. Don’t give up. Stay faithful, stay attentive, stay thankful, stay in community, stay in love with Jesus and with each other. Speak words of affirmation and hope to total strangers, make eye contact with grocery store clerks, grit your teeth and Zoom in, tune in, livestream, lean in - any and every way you can.
Because whomever our King has not yet sent for, He is still sending.