My sister reported on her visit to Mom. The news can be summed up in three sentences.
“I think Mom knew me….No I’m sure she did.”
“Mom is now in a wheelchair—not using her walker any more.”
“Mom went to the weekly church service—Catholic this week.”
Mom is Protestant, but that doesn’t seem to matter. She sleeps through each service, but that doesn’t seem to matter either. I hope the priest gave her communion, because in a way that seems to matter. But on second thought it doesn’t matter one iota; God is mysteriously wonderful, communion or no communion. God finds everyone in ways too wonderful for me to even imagine. Without a doubt, God has found Mom. In fact God found Mom 101 years ago. And now they are two small voices whispering together again.
“I think Mom knew me….No I’m sure she did.”
“Mom is now in a wheelchair—not using her walker any more.”
“Mom went to the weekly church service—Catholic this week.”
Mom is Protestant, but that doesn’t seem to matter. She sleeps through each service, but that doesn’t seem to matter either. I hope the priest gave her communion, because in a way that seems to matter. But on second thought it doesn’t matter one iota; God is mysteriously wonderful, communion or no communion. God finds everyone in ways too wonderful for me to even imagine. Without a doubt, God has found Mom. In fact God found Mom 101 years ago. And now they are two small voices whispering together again.
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