Come On, Elizabeth! It's Time For Church!

God called my mother home yesterday morning.  It was Sunday around 10:00 AM, the time she would have gone to church to prepare an array of organ music for Sunday morning services. When I was young, Dad would often call up the stairs, "Come on, Elizabeth.  It's time for church!"

DECISIONS, DECISIONS ...

We all knew Mom had mere weeks left on Earth, and that she would soon join Dad in Heaven.  As our annual vacation was coming up, we made the difficult decision to proceed with our plans for a week at the beach.  Mom had slightly different plans.  In the middle of the week, I received a call that Mom was in distress.

Another difficult decision ... What to do???

FLASHBACK TO 1979 ...

My grandmother (Nana) was in a nursing facility and had been ill for a few days.  My parents made the difficult decision to proceed with our vacation plans, and we went to Atlantic City.  Nana died while we were away, and we returned home immediately.  By the time we arrived, almost all the funeral arrangements were made, with a few exceptions.  Mom told me on more than one occasion that she regretted not letting me swim in the ocean one more time before we returned home.

FAST-FORWARD TO PRESENT ...


The next day she was still in distress, no change in her condition.  What would Mom and Dad do?  Time for another difficult decision.  We decided to let the kids swim for one more day, and go to the boardwalk one more night.

A late night text from my sister revealed that Mom may be holding on, waiting for someone. Maybe me.  Hmmmm ... We were heading home the next morning.  I could only pray that we arrived in time.

The next morning we arrived by Mom's bedside.  She slept the entire time while we visited with her, my brother, sister, spouses and kids.  As we left, I kissed Mom's forehead and said, "Go plant your garden.  We're all okay here,  It's alright if you want to go."

She held on.  She was waiting for something else.  Something none of us could fathom.  Something only she knew in her heart.

The next day was Sunday.  We awoke and ate breakfast and lounged around my in-laws' house, exhausted from our vacation, from the trip home, and from a long night a Mom's bedside.  Then the phone rang.

"Tommy?"
"Yes," I said.
"Mom died." My sister's words were emotional, but with a hint of relief, as we both knew Mom was finally happy.
"What time did she die?"
"They just called me.  She died a few minutes ago, a little before 10:00."

I think it suddenly dawned on us.  Mom wasn't waiting for any of us.  She was waiting for Dad to yell, "Come on, Elizabeth!  It's time for church!"

Yesterday morning, while we all mourned, Mom went to church with her husband for the first time in many years.  She and Dad are celebrating and praising God with glorious, pain free, heavenly bodies today and every day forevermore.

Mom's death is not a sad occasion.  She had been ill, living a tormented life in a tiny, frail body for far too long.  Her transition to Heaven is a celebration of her new life with all those who have gone before her.

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. 

 - Philippians 3:20-21