I know she had to ask. Everyone does when they think of leaving.
But the thought of it kind of takes your breath and makes you want to sit if you're standing.
"Son, when I die, is there anything you want?"
Is there anything I want? Yeah, for you not to die, that's what I want.
But, I know that's not the answer she's looking for. And so I pause... Suddenly I know. The only thing worth anything – at least to me: her notes.
She wrote. Letters to God in notebooks and notes to herself stuck on bathroom walls, mirrors, the refrigerator, kitchen cabinets, doors…
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." That one's her favorite.
"Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you."
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
"Love never fails"
Plain pieces of paper cut in irregular shapes; simple and handwritten. But nothing plain, irregular or simple about them. They were powerful. Like jewels of gold and silver they lit the room, shining with an eternal glow.
Her little notes were written for her eyes only. To help keep her mind stayed on Thee.
But others saw. Now didn't they? They always do.
The neighbor lady who's forever needing a cup of this or tablespoon of that- she noticed the notes. And what about the bachelor down the hall? He happens to knock whenever supper's ready to hit the table. And for some reason he calls, when he's feeling unstable. He read the writing. He saw the glow.
The Word of Life written with feeble hands of clay. Hands that have known fear and failure – fold to pray.
I couldn't ask for a greater inheritance.
Thanks Mom, I love you.
Lord, like those notes I'm seen and read. Help me to shine.
Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.