Love & Prayers

Growing up, my family moved a lot. My dad and mom were ordained ministers and pastored mostly small churches across the Midwest in a denomination that moved their pastors every couple of years—or so it felt to me as a child. Moving was an adventure! New towns, new people, new schools, and a new place to call home. There are a lot of towns across the Midwest that I could call home because I learned something there, I made friends there, and I have memories that are attached to those communities.

Even though we moved a lot, I felt like my life was stable—my family’s location might have changed, but our core (mom, dad, and my two sisters) never changed. Stability didn’t come from location; stability for me came by being together.

I didn’t feel a stability change in my life until my dad passed away in 1988. He was 49 years young. I felt—and rightly so—that I was too young to lose my dad. We were just beginning to have an adult father/daughter relationship where I was responsible (no longer a rebellious teenager—making him have gray hair, or so he said), growing in my faith with the Lord, and starting a family. My mourning seemed delayed as I supported my mom in that first year. Grief doesn’t hide for long, though. It began showing itself in anxiety and panic attacks. My mentor, Sister Jean Gerth (back in the day we called each other brother and sister), prayed with me many times and always pointed me to God’s Word.

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things. — Philippians 4:8

This verse was on repeat in my mind, and slowly it made its way down to my heart and stability returned. I could sleep better and breathe deeper. I surely still missed my dad, but the fear and sadness that weighed so heavy on me were so much lighter as I put into practice paying attention to what my mind was dwelling on.

Last year in June, my mom received a terminal cancer diagnosis, and within six weeks she had her sweet homegoing to heaven. This brought another significant stability change in my life. Grief is a funny thing. It never leaves you. It is an undercurrent of your daily life. Because life goes on. You still get out of bed every day, you go to work, you have holidays, you celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, graduations—but missing that someone you want to share it with, grief flows under you like you are standing on a thin layer of ice that could break through at any moment.

I have been quicker to remember the truth of God’s Word this time through—intentionally thinking about what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and excellent—even writing them down to reframe my thinking in the moment.

If you were to receive a card or letter from my mom, it would always be signed with this signature line:
Love & Prayers

Love – She loved those God put in front of her unconditionally! I am not just saying that because she is my mom. I often challenged her as she believed in someone who had clearly done her wrong. She led with love, and no one that knew her would say they didn’t feel truly loved by her.

Prayers – She didn’t have financial means, but she knew the power of prayer and never ceased to pray for her children, grandchildren, family, and friends who called her needing a little encouragement.

What a rich heritage of faith and love she wove through my life, my children’s lives, and the generations yet to come. If they don’t know now, they will know someday that they are covered in the Love & Prayers of Grandma Judy.

Love & Prayers to you today!