In Everything Give Thanks

1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18:

Rejoice evermore.

Pray without ceasing.

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

 

Sometimes I’ve wondered about how I could follow this verse. But on October 18 my mom passed away, and on that day, I realized how this verse can really ring true.

 

Mom was 88 years old. For the last couple months, her health has been going quickly downhill. Some days when I called her, she didn’t answer the phone. Other times when I did talk to her, she was weak and not very clear-headed.

 

On Friday morning, her heartrate went very low, and she was sent to the hospital. By Saturday morning, October 18, my brother Jim said I could probably call and talk to her in the middle of the morning.

 

I did call her, and it was a good conversation. She was alert, aware of all that was going on, and she seemed to have energy. I can never thank God enough that he allowed me to have that last conversation as my final memory with her.

 

In the summer of 2020, Mom had knee surgery, and while she was in the hospital and rehab, I called her every day. Then I asked myself why I just didn’t always call her every day. Long distance phone calls no longer cost extra.

 

So, rather than think how silly I was for not thinking of that sooner, I am just thankful that I’ve talked to Mom almost every day since then.

 

Sometimes we had a hard time thinking of things to talk about. We discussed my kids, my brothers, what I was working on, what we were having for dinner. After she moved into a nursing home three years ago, we talked about the activities they had there and the friends she was making.

 

My husband Murray reminded me of how in our faith, we believe Mom is with Jesus now. That’s true. Mom was a Christian. I told Murray, “I’m not sad for Mom. I’m sad for me.”

 

We had Mom’s funeral service at her small country church in Missouri this past Saturday. Murray said there were maybe 125 people there, to honor Mom, to support my family. This included relatives, members of the church, people from the community. One lady told me she was Darlene, who used to ride the school bus with me. My high school English teacher. Seemed like so many cousins, my three aunts.

 

The minister, Mark, asked people to share stories and memories about Mom.

 

My brother Jim told some funny stories. My cousin Michelle said Mom inspired her to learn to quilt. Several people mentioned Mom’s quilting skills.

 

Murray stood up and said, “Kathy and I met when she was a secretary at the university and I was a student. We decided to get married pretty fast, so she took me home to meet her family and told them we were getting married.

 

“So here was this funny-looking kid with red hair and a blue earring, and Kathy’s mom pulled her aside into the kitchen and asked, ‘Does he have an income?’”

 

Everybody laughed.

 

Mark asked, “Well, did you?” Murray said he held his two fingers out, about a quarter of an inch apart.

 

Mark shared Psalm 23, John 14:1-6, and verses from the last couple of chapters in Revelation, about no more sadness, no more crying.

 

We played the song Mom asked for for as long as I can remember, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.”

 

It was wonderful to be hugged by my brothers. That small church has a precious ministry for funerals held there. They prepare a full lunch for anyone who wants to stay for it. I didn’t know if I could, but I was able to eat and enjoy conversation with people.

 

I told Murray it would be a big change in my life when I couldn’t talk to Mom on the phone every day. I have thought of things to be thankful for, but I know for a long while, I’ll feel a spasm of emptiness in the afternoon at the time I’d usually call Mom.

 

Mom had a rough time with her health during the last few months, and there were surely days when she was discouraged. But just in the last couple weeks of her life, she would talk to me about the occupational and physical therapy she was having. She said, “I like it.”

 

She was hopeful that she would be able to move around her room more by herself and do more for herself. She even said she hoped she would walk again with her walker.

 

That’s how I want to live, hopeful to the end, planning for life.