Stories of interaction between Mom and I may fill many columns for many years. This is one of my favorites. Sometime during the early teen or pre- years, my younger brother and I decided that we needed glasses. We had observed those with them and thought they were cool so we hatched a plan that would reward us so. We started to complain that we couldn't see good and mom took the bait. We were taken to the optometrist for an examination. This was the best part of our plan. We had concurred that every other time a new lens was lowered in front of us we would say good/bad in order. It was foolproof. The problem with foolproof is in not dealing with fools, which neither the Dr. nor my mom were of that category. After consultation with mom both were of the persuasion that they had a couple of them in hand.
Needless to say, we didn't get any glasses. What we did get was forever hours of eye strengthening exercises. We had to lie on the porch, throw and catch a tennis ball with one eye closed for umpteen numbers of times, then the other eye. We had to swing a ball away from us on a string from the ceiling for umpteen numbers of times, then the other eye. It was a miracle accounting for the improvement that we felt in both eyes. We hailed our healing to our parents but they weren't convinced and made us finish all the remaining exercise. I'm sure they spent countless evenings between themselves and friends retelling the story of the two "blind" kids, laughing all the while.
At mom's life celebration I told of sitting out in the yard a week or so ago and seeing the moon come up red and menacing looking. By the time it got above the trees it shared its normal silvery reflection. As I was going to work the next morning I stopped and watched as it set to the west, calming and peaceful. Reflecting the light of the sun. Not taking any glory, just being a reflector of a light. I have seen my mom like that. Coming over the horizon red and menacing looking, seemingly bent for destruction. I have seen her going about normally reflecting a light that came from another source. I "saw" as she was taken up into that light after she had finished her work here on earth, breathing her last, finally calm and peaceful. As they unhooked her from everything I couldn't help but to see what she was. A reflection of God here on earth.
We have possibly all viewed our parents like that, and I'm quite sure the same goes for God. We get scared when our physical senses tell us to. We have skewed perceptions of God, heaven, death, and all the other things that we can't quite see, with our physical eyes anyway. We confuse God with Santa, heaven with the heavens, and death as something to fear or the end. We cannot know God completely because our lifetimes aren't long enough to search the depths of who He is. We only can speculate what heaven is like from glimpses of biblical revelation. But we can know death for what it is. It is the worlds skewed perception that death is fearful. That death is the end. That death is limbo. So many people believe things like this and it causes us to try and fight off what is a natural occurrence. Even more so it is the final transaction before we meet the Creator.
When I viewed my mom’s final breath I saw her resurrection, not in the physical sense, but spiritually. As I finish this on Resurrection Sunday I am grateful for the provisions that brought me into Faye Smith's care. I am grateful for the provisions of the light of God's Grace reflected on my and so many others lives. As family and friends gathered, laughed, cried, ate, and laughed some more we basked in the reflected light that was my mom. I no longer viewed her as menacing. I saw her reflected light clearly. My eyes have been strengthened to the point that I now see as she did. I see God and His provisions clearly. I shall try and reflect His light as mom did, as Christ did, as many others do here in Quitman and elsewhere. Until next week. ags
