That night dragged on and on. My mother’s body continued to give way. Her breathing was incredibly labored. If you have never been with someone passing from this life to the next, it is every bit as painful, heartbreaking, and down-right amazing as you’d imagine it to be. Throughout the night I had gone from lying in a twin bed beside her to sitting by her side caressing her hand.
You might feel a little skeptical about the next part, but I tell you without hesitation, it is the truth. Nothing less. As I lay there watching my mother in the dimly lit room, I felt a warmth pass over my body as if someone had just momentarily placed an electric blanket on me. And just as quickly as it was laid on me, it passed over me. I looked up at my step father and said “she’s gone, isn’t she?” My mother had passed away at three am. And without any doubt in my mind, her spirit passed right through me as it left her body.
I tell you these things because this morning at church our preacher spoke about the Resurrection. He told of all the theories. The “swoon” theory; that maybe Jesus just fainted on the cross but wasn’t really dead. The “theft” theory; that the disciples wanted so badly to keep this good thing going so they stole his body during the night. The “hallucination” theory; that each person that saw Jesus that day had only hallucinated. Each of these theories have been dispelled. Today when I was sitting in church listening to the preacher talk about all this, the Holy Spirit reminded me of my mother and her passing. The Holy Spirit reminded me that I have had a first hand account of what it is like when the spirit doesn’t need the body anymore. When my mother’s scarred, cancer ridden, broken down, tattered, worn out body was left here on earth and her spirit ascended to heaven. I know. I was there. I felt it.
My spirituality, as I used to call it, has taken the long way to get to where I am today. But for me, that’s what it took. There are so many other stories that I could tell that helped me get to where I am today, and maybe Glennon will be so kind as to let me tell them in time. But the short of it is, I needed to know it was real. I needed to know what I was believing was solid. Today my faith, which is what I call my sprirituality now, is unshakable. I know if I were to be on death’s bed tonight, I wouldn’t have any questions either. Not one. None. Nada.
Each of us have our own beliefs and I respect that about each and every Monkee. I hope you will also respect mine; for this is the only belief I have got.
Monkees, I moved Tricia’s guest post up in the queue immediately when I discovered that this week she found a lump in her breast. Her doctors will give her more information on Monday. She’s full of hope but also afraid. Just like the rest of us.
This is what we’re here for, Monkees, Tricia and her faithful, fearful heart are what Momastery is all about.
Author of the New York Times Bestselling Memoir CARRY ON, WARRIOR
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