Still Standing-Part 2

“Ministers wives don’t always have to put on a happy face and walk around praising Jesus all the time.  Sometimes they get to cry and be mad at God like the rest of us.”

This statement came from a dear friend of mine who I asked to proof my previous blog “Still Standing.”  She is not a minister’s wife.  She is a high school counselor, a chocoholic, and Christian sister who has allowed me to be me over the years. 

As ministers wives we are often forced to plaster a smile on our face and go through life.  I mean, we are ministers wives and we should have all the “religious stuff” figured out.  Shouldn’t we know the Bible from cover to cover and be able to quote scripture at any given moment?  Shouldn’t we be able to give wise counsel to make someone feel better?  I am rolling my eyes as I type this paragraph because it sounds so ridiculous. 

Really girlfriends, sometimes this is exactly how the world sees us and our families.  I have seen some ministers wives hide their pain and grief by mechanically going through the motions of ministry.  It truly does them no good and personally I believe it sends a false idea in to the world. 

Yes, we should be able to handle things differently from the lost world.  We should strive to set an example.  However, sometimes we hurt, we cry, we get angry and that’s okay.  The world should see us as real people.  The bible tells us that Jesus was angry, he wept, and that his heart was broken.  If the Son of God experienced these emotions, then why should we as ministers wives think we should never feel the same way?

As I have gone through the grief process of loosing my mom, I have run the spectrum of emotions.  In the beginning I was in total denial.  I could never imagine that Mom would never be able to cook our favorite treats or even leave her bed.  Soon I entered the anger phase.  Oh girlfriends, I was so angry at the doctors for not curing her.  I would find myself demanding answers when the doctors were baffled themselves.  I stayed in this phase for several weeks until I stayed with my mom for 48 hours in the hospital where I watched her suffer so much that I began to beg God to give her peace.  It was at that moment in the wee hours of the night that I began to understand that God was getting ready to call Mom home.  I cried my heart out then I found myself softly singing “It is Well with My Soul” in the room.  Over the next eight weeks I slowly began to silently release Mom to the Father.  One day when Mom and I were talking I told her, “Mom, I don’t want you to leave us but I also don’t want you to suffer anymore.  I know that as soon as you draw your last breath here that you will be with the Lord.”  At that very moment I was at peace with what was to come. 

Was I upset when Mom left this earth?  Sure.  Did I cry? More like sobbed.  Do I still cry for no reason? You bet I do.  Was Mother’s Day difficult? Yes, because I couldn’t call Mom.  Do I understand why God called Mom home or why she had to experience great pain in her last few hours?  No, I don’t.  I do know that Mom is at perfect rest, completely healed, with the biggest and brightest smile on her face because she is at last home.  I know that right now she is talking to Jesus and preparing a homemade chocolate pie for when Jesus comes to get me one day.