Just recently I lost my mother to cancer which was diagnosed in October of 2010, it's such a surreal thought that something could move that fast yet at the same time I'm certain it was in her body for much longer. The last few weeks have been comprised of many new experiences for me and I'm trying to make the adjustments but some days that's just not working. Helping people through similar experiences is what I do as a pastor but I have to be honest here, it's not the same. It seemed that as she was actually dying that my experience of past situations would be a good thing because I knew what to expect, or at least anticipate what would happen next.What I learned is that knowing about things doesn't actually prepare you for them when it's on a personal level, it's not the same. My hope is that it makes me a better pastor and allows me to help others on a deeper level but I fear deep inside it may not because it's not the same. What I know to be true is that in a time like this when others who have walked the same path before say words like, "I know just how this feels" or "I've been there and I understand", you're not as comforted as you, or they, might think because it's just not the same.
The relationship with my mom wasn't always easy or even sweet, in fact some of the time it was caustic and difficult, however over the last 25 years I've tried to honor her by doing my best to love and care for her as she walked her own hurting path. I've watched others do this with dignity and respect and I wanted to do that as well but it's not the same. There were many times that she depended upon me to help her make life changing decisions that would effect the outcome and I thought I was doing so in her best interest because she trusted me for that, but it's not the same. In the last moments of her life as she was suffering and struggling to draw in her last few breaths I told her to relax and let go, soon she would be safe and secure in the arms of Jesus and would suffer no more. In retrospect it's hard to know if it was she, or I, that I was trying to comfort as I felt so caught between being her son and her pastor, it's not the same.
What I hold onto now, and am learning to live with, is the fact that she today lives in a much better place, one that I myself long for when I cross the same bridge. My heart is so full from the love and support of my family, especially my wife Leslie who loved and cared for my mother as if she were her own, regardless of the fact that in the early days of our lives together mom rejected her because she knew this "girl" would be the one to take her baby boy (as she often called me) away from her. Our church was so incredible as it poured itself into caring for us as a whole and handling every detail. I was reminded once again that I am blessed with not just a fantastic Associate Pastor (Bruce Crews) but a sweet dear friend who may be somewhat short on experience, but long on love and devotion and it made all the difference. Accepting care and love is something that I've watched others do and even tried to extend it myself in those times of loss and grief but when it's you it's not the same. There is an overwhelming difference between "caring for" and "being cared for" and I'm so humbled by this love because I've learned first hand, it's not the same.
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