AfterWords | Wholly
AfterWords is a series of reflections by contributors as they share their personal experience of God in community at The Parish on Sundays.
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A short read
by Amy Hoyle
The night my mother passed, I had the privilege of being by her side. I had just finished singing a hymn when she drew her last earthly breath. One of the hospice nurses had encouraged me to really abide in that intimate space and not rush about.
While others mourned, hugged, and grieved, I just sat holding my mom’s hand, studying her face, and pondering all God had done. I didn’t want to be away from her, away from this holy space.
We bathed her body gently as we waited for the coroner.
Cancer had waged a furious battle. It cost a lumpectomy, double mastectomy, ports for chemo, radiation. And in the last three months, cancer slowly took her ability to breathe. Parts of her body were gone, but her spirit was made whole.
Though her body withered, her soul was untouched. God gave her the breath of the Holy Spirit, and when she passed through the shadow, her new, perfect, eternal body was waiting.
During the wilderness of her three months on home hospice, God helped my mom lay it all down.
My mom liked to keep things happy, and orderly. We spoke daily, and she would tell me who says hello from the grocery store, what she bought at the grocery store, things she saw on Facebook. And these are all good and fine things to discuss. But in the last months of her life, I pressed her to go deep. Time was running out, and I wanted us to say all the things.
Through the loving prayers of hospice nurses, friends, family, and what I’d learned in my own wilderness journey, mom faced it all. She took hold of God’s right hand, and a few weeks before she died, in the dark of night, I sat by her bed as we tearfully spoke our love out loud. She was vulnerable, and made space for intimacy to rise to the top.
A friend recently shared a podcast that talks about intimacy, as seen in the story of Jesus, Lazarus, Mary and Martha. Jesus’ life was under threat. His human time on earth was nearing the end. Still, on His way to Jerusalem, Jesus went to Bethany, to be with His friends.
Lazarus’ sister Mary anoints Jesus with a high-priced perfume at dinner. Her love for Jesus was on full display, and her heart so beautifully mirrored Jesus’ love for her.
THIS is what Jesus was talking about when He gave the Sermon on the Mount. He promised a flourishing life, but His kingdom is backwards, celebrating the vulnerable—the poor in spirit, the mourners, the humble, those who hunger after righteousness, who are merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, and the ones persecuted for their testimony. In response, Jesus promised the kingdom of heaven is theirs, they will be comforted, will inherit the earth, will be satisfied, will receive mercy, will see God and be called His children and given the kingdom of heaven.
The good life, the flourishing life, is focused on being made wholehearted— brought to maturity and integrated with the will of God. In the kingdom of God, this is where true power lies—in our love and care for each other.
In my mother’s last days, she was able to embrace every part of Jesus’ life and make it her own. And that embrace allowed the healing work of God to gently guide her home.
“It is worth everything to fling your life toward intimacy. In the art of intimacy, you find out who you are, and how much you already love God, and just how worth the risk of closeness really is.” Bobbi Salkeld (Commons Church Calgary)
God desires our formation, and He journeys right alongside, teaching our heart how to mirror His.
In the years before his passing, my father poured himself into writing and poetry. This is one I wanted to share.
Mirror, by Richard Sentelle
Mirror, mirror of my years evokes the truth with every image;
My whole life in vivid color, be it beauty, be it blemish.
Mirror, mirror, telling all, dwelling always on the facts,
From my first cry to my last, every moment reenacts.
Mirror, mirror of my life shows both happiness and strife,
Recalls all the smiles and laughter, foreshadows the ever after.
Mirror, mirror reveals all: Every stumble, every fall,
Every triumph, every failure, every pit and every wall.
Mirror, mirror of my heart does images of love impart.
Beating ever true and faithful; ever meek and ever grateful.
Mirror, mirror, never dark, reflecting, bright, my beating heart,
Beating on through joy and sorrow; beating strong for each tomorrow.
Mirror, mirror in my mind twisted images does find,
Riddled through with thoughts eclectic—ordinary and majestic.
Mirror, mirror, clear or clouded, memories, some dear, some shrouded
Flash in dizzying array across my mirror’s broad display.
Mirror, mirror knows my soul, sometimes tortured, sometimes blest,
By His death and resurrection from the jaws of Hell was wrest.
Mirror, mirror of my faith, saved by grace to peace and love,
Reflecting Christ’s own sacrifice, eternal life is mine, above.
Want to contribute to AfterWords? From poems to paintings to a child’s drawing in Parish Kids, we welcome voices from those who call the Parish home. To learn more, email info@parishanglican.org