“He will never
leave you nor forsake you.” ~ Deuteronomy 31:8
My youth group spent the Fourth of
July singing patriotic songs at a nursing home. The residents seemed to enjoy
it—at least those alert enough to follow along. As I was leaving and shaking
hands, I noticed an older woman peeking out from her doorway down the hall. She
hadn’t joined the crowd gathered around the piano.
I
looked into her face... and for the briefest moment, I saw my Mom’s face
looking back at me. It was as clear as day. I can't explain it. It was as
though she were saying, "I'm always near. I'm keeping you close."
My knees nearly
buckled. I desperately needed a quiet place to process what’d just happened,
but I had twelve teenagers depending on me, so I held it together.
We headed out, but as I reached
my car, I realized my keys were missing. After a futile search, I sent the kids
home with another adult.
For the
first time all afternoon, I was alone. I went back inside and slipped into the
small chapel near the entrance. I finally let the tears fall. I hadn't realized
how heavy the ache of her absence had been. “Thank
You, Lord,” I sighed. “For
that gift, and for reminding me that true love never fades.”
A
few days later, the assisted living center called. My stomach tightened,
wondering if our enthusiastic but off-key singing had triggered complaints. The caller asked, “Sir, were
you the one who spoke with Mrs. Ellison, the lady down the hall?”
“Yes,
ma’am,”
I said after a pause.
“Her
daughter asked us to thank you. She told us you made a deep impression on her
Mom.”
“I'm
glad," I replied softly, "though I don't think she said a word to
me."
“She
didn't then," the caller said. "But
later that evening, she spoke to her daughter very clearly. She said, ‘He came, and I held his hand.’
Then she added, ‘Tell him not to worry. Mothers never really leave us.”
Then her voice
softened. “Mrs. Ellison passed away peacefully the next morning.”
I sat down, my mind instantly back in that hallway—the
warmth of her hand, that familiar face, and the unmistakable seriousness in her
eyes.
My fingers
brushed against metal. There were my missing keys, tucked safely into the
pocket where my mother had always told me to keep them. I couldn't remember
putting them there, but I smiled. Even after she was gone, her wisdom still had
a way of finding me.
Father God, thank You for the quiet ways You
remind us that we are never alone. Thank You for the gift of mothers, and for
the love that never truly leaves us. Help us trust Your nearness, especially
when we miss the ones we love most. Amen
