What’s in your hands – take II

Sometimes God reveals to us what’s in our hands that we’re holding on too tightly.  Through the Holy Spirit, He lets us know what we need to surrender to Him because it’s creating a wedge between Him and us – or it’s a barrier to our spiritual growth – or we’re clinging so tightly that it reveals we really don’t trust.

Sometimes it’s a person; other times it’s a sin, a habit, a material possession or a hobby or leisure activity.  In my case, it was a person.

Back in 2020, my mother was living in a senior independent facility, The Palms.  We had moved my parents there in 2017; thankfully, it was their choice, and there was no prodding from me/us.  Dad went to his heavenly home in 2018.  Mom had continued to live there.  And it was a blessing.  As I told her as we returned to The Palms right after my dad had passed, she had me (her only child), my husband, her grandson and her earthly family; she had her family from church; and God had also provided her family at The Palms.  God had given her numerous friends there to support and encourage her.

Late in March in 2020, Mom shared with me that she had excruciating pain in her right arm.  She had a high tolerance for pain so I knew this was major.  Covid was at its peak so trying to get in to see a doctor of any kind was a challenge.  But we finally got an appointment with a PA at an orthopedic doctor’s office.  After waiting to see him for about two hours, he finally showed up and examined Mom’s arm and did some x-rays.  He concluded she had tendonitis.  Even when he said the diagnosis to her, I had a check in my spirit.  I didn’t believe it was that.  But I never let on to her.  We left with prescriptions in hand.

Shortly afterwards I moved in with her.  I called the manager of her independent facility, who I knew very well, and told him I was moving in with her.  I couldn’t bring her to my house as she had trouble navigating the bathrooms with her walker.  On top of that, she needed to be comfortable. I assured him I would stay away from other residents, have my temperature taken (their daily practice at the facility) and anything else that was required. All my life I had seen Mom be so strong and face whatever.  But this trial was taking it out of her.

For Mom to maneuver on her walker, she had to hoist herself up by first putting her hands down on an object, such as a desk, table, etc.  With the intense pain in her arm, it was excruciating to get up on the walker each time.  It was hard to watch; I hurt for her every time.

On top of that, the cream the PA prescribed for her arm didn’t touch the pain.  I called her pharmacist to ask questions.  Even over the phone, he told me that this cream and the other meds should be helping her.  He and I both doubted the diagnosis of tendonitis.

In the days that followed, Mom struggled to get around.  Daily tasks like going from one room to another, going to the bathroom and getting back up, etc. became a huge mountain to climb.

As I was trying to transfer her from her loveseat to her motorized chair for bed, she slipped down and fell.  I was helpless to pick her up.  I called my husband, who was already in the bed.  He came immediately.  But after arriving, he realized he couldn’t pick Mom up without injuring that arm even further.  We called 911; they arrived quickly and helped Mom up and into bed.

After that, there was another incident.  This time the paramedics took Mom on to the emergency room near my house. 

I drove behind the ambulance.  On the way, I called my husband and asked him to pray that I would be able to go in the hospital with mom.  My husband, Norman, is always a realist.  He said, “Laura, prepare yourself.  Covid is in full swing; you know that’s probably not going to happen.”  Through tears, I asked him to pray anyway, and we hung up. I sat at a red light and called a dear friend.  I explained the situation.  Susan responded, “Laura, you know my 84-year old dad with dementia was just in the hospital.  They wouldn’t let me go back with him.” Because of all of the emotions and the events of the day, I had totally forgotten that.  The reality sank in.  I thanked Susan for praying and hung up.  As I drove down a familiar highway to the hospital, I prayed out loud.  “Lord, it’s my momma.  She’s never been in the hospital without me.  I’m scared, and I know she is as well.  Please work this out.  Please touch and heal her or help them find out what’s causing her pain.”  I sobbed as I prayed.  My stomach was in knots.  Something major was going on with mom; I could feel it in my bones.  But I was helpless.

As the tears kept coming, my emotions were in turmoil, but I finally became quiet, not knowing what else to pray.

And then I heard, “Laura, do you trust ME with your mom?”  It was as if the Lord Jesus Himself was in the passenger seat next to me.  I heard Him that clearly. 

I replied out loud, “Of course I trust you with her, Lord.”  And then, just as He did Peter when He questioned his love and devotion, Jesus asked again,

“Laura, do you really trust ME with your mom?”  And then the tears flowed.  I confessed to Him that I did not. He revealed to me even as I drove that I had such a tight grip on my mother.  I wanted to be in control.  I wanted to be in charge.  I didn’t want to surrender her or her care to anyone else, even the Lord Jesus.

But on the drive to the hospital, I did.  Not only did I surrender her, I gave Jesus my husband and my son while I drove.  I prayed aloud and confessed that I held them too tightly. 

I told Jesus that I loved Him and knew He was indeed in control, and I knew I could trust Him, whatever that meant.  Was it easy?  NO!  I sobbed throughout the entire conversation and process.  Was it freeing?  You bet!!!

A peace came over me. 

I pulled into the hospital parking lot and walked to the emergency exit with my mother’s bag and belongings.  There was a wonderful male nurse who greeted me.  He was kind, loving, caring and seemed to me like a giant teddy bear, a big man who was somewhat round and compassionate.  Exactly what I needed at that moment.

I told him my mother’s name.  Before I handed him the bag, I asked for assurance that she would receive it.  And I looked right in his eyes and tried to hold back the tears, but I couldn’t help it.  I said as I gulped, “We’ve never been apart in a situation like this.  Please take good care of her.”  He gave me his assurance and even hugged me.  God put that specific male nurse there that day, I’m still convinced.

As I got to my car, Mom’s nurse called me on my cell phone.  She explained that she was caring for Mom.  Her voice was empathetic and compassionate.  Then, she handed the phone to my mother.  Just hearing her voice helped me.  But mom’s voice cracked as well.  She was fiercely independent, but I knew she was missing me as much as I was her.  We talked for as long as they allowed.  The nurse got back on the line and told me to go home.  The doctor would call me when they received the results of Mom’s tests.

I did as I was told.  It was a long drive home, even though my house is only 15 minutes from the hospital.  I cried; I prayed; I sang; I continued to tell God I trusted Him with my mother – and I asked Him to help me fully trust Him. I was reliving the story of the man in scripture in Mark 9:23-25 who asks Jesus to heal his son who is possessed by a demon.  The boy’s father said to Jesus, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

As I got home, I fell in my husband’s arms and just sobbed.  Surrender is not easy.  Leaving Mom in that hospital was difficult, but more than that, releasing her to Jesus was freeing, but it was also one of THE most excruciating things I’ve ever had to do, but the peace that followed was amazing. 

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am loyal and love fiercely…not half-heartedly.  And this was my momma.  The woman who had been the very first impression I had of God as a young child, and the essence of sacrificial love my entire life. She had always been there for me; she had never failed me.  Her love was a constant in my life. But Jesus was asking me to surrender her to Him.  I did.  I knew I was clutching her too tightly.

What happened after that was like I was on auto-pilot.  We ate; I cleaned up the dishes; I put things away.  I kept waiting for the doctor to call.  Finally, we went to bed.  I didn’t think I could sleep, but I did out of pure emotional exhaustion.

At 1:30 am, my cell phone rang.  It was Mom’s doctor in the ER.   I remember all of this saga as if it was yesterday.  It’s forever etched in my memory bank, mind and heart.

I ran to our living room so I wouldn’t wake my husband.  The doctor introduced himself and said, “Laura, we received the x-rays back on your mom.  She has lesions eating away at the bones.”  I swallowed hard; I was still groggy and trying to make sense of his words.  I finally responded, “Are you saying Mom has cancer?”  “Yes, multiple myeloma.  And I believe it’s in more places than just her arm.”  I don’t really remember his words after that.  It was as if someone had punched me hard in the gut, and I couldn’t catch my breath!

I knew when I first took Mom to the orthopedic PA that there was something seriously wrong with her arm; I knew it wasn’t tendonitis.  But never in my wildest dreams did I think it was cancer!  It was a hard pill to swallow.

I went to tell my husband.  As I spoke the words, I cried.  I knew it wasn’t good.

We both got dressed and went to pick up Mom.  I hugged her.  The tech helped Mom get in the front seat of the car out of a wheelchair.   I sat in the back.

As we were out of the parking lot a short distance, Mom said, “Laura, is it cancer?”  I didn’t know how much the doctor had told her so I was a little stunned but not totally surprised.  Mom wasn’t much for shoving stuff under the rug; she, like my hubby, liked to face things head on.  I responded, “Mom, that’s what he thinks initially, but he’s not sure.  We will follow up with an oncologist next week.”  It was 2:30 am by that time, but I wasn’t sleepy in the least.  My mind and heart were churning, and I was praying as Norman drove us back to Mom’s room at The Palms.

As Norman drove us home, he commented to me months later.  “Laura, your mom never asked another question.  That wasn’t like her.”  I definitely thought the same thing.

Normally, Mom would’ve asked me tons of questions and wanted to know the next step.  But I think God had prepared her.  My guess is my precious, selfless mother prayed for the good Lord to take her – and take her quickly.

She had sacrificed three years of her life caring for her mother, my precious Gan, who lived with us.  I never heard my mom utter one word of complaint during those times.  But did it wear her down?  Were there times that I looked at her and knew she was exhausted and weary?  Did it take its toll on my parents’ marriage, even though my dad was supportive and helpful? Yes, yes and yes!

She had already apologized to me profusely for having to be away from Norman.  She didn’t want me to have to sacrifice for her the way she had done.  She never said that, but I knew it as I knew her.  But I was willing – and Norman was prepared for me to do so.

I went back to The Palms with Mom.  The next couple of days are somewhat a blur.  She was in so much pain and had to be on pain killers.  They made her lethargic and not herself; she was confined to the bed. If there was anything Mom hated it was being “doped up” on medicine.  But there was no alternative as the pain in her arm was too intense.  I cared for her and brought her stuff.  No longer could she get up and go to the bathroom.  I couldn’t wrap my brain around her care or what the next step would be.

There was no one there to consult.  My husband was working and trying to manage things at our house.  Our son had already moved and was busy with his own life.  I felt alone, and yet God was there with me.  I had the richest prayer times I’ve ever experienced.  I praised Him amidst that huge and painful storm.

My insides were in knots; it hurt more than I can express in words to see my precious mother in this kind of state.  I was helpless; I didn’t know what to do or what the next course of action needed to be.  I cried out to God like never before, asking Him to show me and give me wisdom.

And He did. 

The details that followed were orchestrated and lead of God at every turn.  There’s too much to include and too much to try and relay. You would be bored with the details, but I treasure each one and have recorded them.  Why?  Because God was with me every step of the way; He made His will evident and showed me what I needed to do next.  He was all-sufficient.

My precious mother, my best friend – the woman who had been my first image of God, who had loved me like no other on the face of this earth and had been my role model went to her heavenly home in just another week.

It was a whirlwind.  I couldn’t wrap my mind or heart around it.  God had been so merciful; she could’ve suffered for days, weeks, months or years.  But He was gracious and took her to her heavenly home in such a brief time!!

We shared a closeness that is rare between a mother and daughter.  Even years before, my son had once confessed to me that he knew I would probably fall apart when Grammy (my mom) died.  He saw; he knew our closeness.  My husband told me something similar after Mom died.

But I didn’t fall apart. Jesus was My Rock, My Refuge and My Comforter.  Oh, I grieved.  I cried.  It was a hurt like I never known.  With dad, there was months to prepare.  Not with her. 

But I’m convinced that God gave me a special gift.  You see when He asked me on the way to the hospital if I trusted my mom to Him, I knew He was really asking me to surrender her to Him.  Little did I know then that she would be in heaven a mere week later.

All I know is God carried me…and He put His huge, strong, everlasting, loving and merciful arms around me.  I had never experienced anything like it before or since.

Just a day or so later I was reading in my Bible and came across Psalm 91:4. I read the Psalms almost daily as I so identify with David, but I never remember reading this verse.  “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”  That was it!!!  God had covered me with His huge wings.  I felt Him.  His presence and His lifting of me from grief was so real!!! Oh, how I praised and thanked Him! 

It’s been almost 5 years since God called Mom to her heavenly home.  There are times when I miss her so badly, it truly hurts.  But I can still claim that God’s mighty arms envelop me and hold me to His bosom.  I’m convinced that if I hadn’t “released her” and “surrendered her” to the Lord on that drive, I wouldn’t have had the same experience.

Now to the question at hand.  What are you clinging too tightly?  You know.  Most of us know.

And if you don’t, the Holy Spirit will clearly reveal this truth to you.

God is jealous; He doesn’t want anything else to hold the place of #1 in your life. 

Don’t keep living life with the same priorities.  Allow Him to examine your life and reveal to you what you are clinging to too tightly.

And know that there is a renewed freedom in surrender.

Take time to do business with Him today.  It’s so worth it!