Special Delivery...from God

So far we have had an unusually mild winter.  In many places, the daffodils are blooming several weeks earlier than generally expected.  When I see their sunny, yellow faces, I am reminded of an event that happened during a dark time in my life when my mother was dying.

Alzheimer's dementia stole my mother bit by bit.  A serious fall and crushed elbow forced us to move her to a nursing facility.  My father, also in poor health, could not adequately care for her at home.  Diminished reasoning ability changed her personality drastically.  Most days she recognized me, and often called me by name, but our mother-daughter relationship was lost and I mourned it.

In January we were told my mother had three to six months to live, so Hospice was called.  For anyone who has experienced making end of life decisions for a loved one, with or without advance directives, it is heartbreaking.  We agonized over not inserting a feeding tube when she refused food.  We begged her to eat or drink, but she no longer had the desire or ability to consume it.  Her weight dropped to the point that her emaciated body evoked images of starving Jews in 1940's Nazi concentration camps.  Although the separation that death brings was dreaded, it was also recognized as a relief to her suffering.  We had no doubts of her faith in God, so we knew He was waiting for her in heaven with open arms.

In mid March, Mom was still hanging on, although she grew weaker day by day.  The sadness I felt was overwhelming.  I was working full-time, and February and March were two of the busiest months.  I was physically and emotionally drained.  Spring arrived and I hadn't even noticed.  When we came home one afternoon, I saw there were literally hundreds of daffodils blooming in our neighbor's yard...much more than ever before.   

I had a tiny thought...an unspoken prayer..."God, I would love to have some of those daffodils.  They are so beautiful."  Later, I even thought of asking to buy some.  Daddy and Mama taught us not to trespass on others' property, and never take anything that isn't yours.  I couldn't just go and pick them myself....although I must admit, the thought did cross my mind.

The next day, I was busy in the kitchen when someone knocked on the front door.  My husband went to the door, and when he returned he held a huge bouquet of yellow daffodils!  I could hardly believe it!  Tears sprung up as I wondered, how could this be?  I told no one, but God, how much I wanted those daffodils.  Apparently, God in His love for me, whispered my secret to the little girl next door.

Two weeks later, my mother died on Good Friday and spent her first Easter in heaven.  Jesus Christ, God's perfect Son, in atonement for our sins, died on what we now celebrate as Good Friday.  Three days later Jesus rose again on Easter morning...victorious over death, hell, and the grave. 

I now have daffodil bulbs planted in my own yard.  Their stalks have pushed up through the cold, winter ground, but the buds haven't opened yet.  Although spring hasn't quite arrived in my back yard, I am anxiously awaiting the return of new life and color it brings to my world. 

Since that day seven years ago, daffodils have new meaning for me.  First of all, they are reminders of God's love and care of me--even in the little things of life.  They are also examples of Jesus' death, burial, and resurrection, and the promise of everlasting life.  Trusting Jesus, I WILL see my mother again one day.    

Copyright 2012 Charlotte Laney