Turbo Cancer: Day 181 - December 9, 2022
There Is No Going Back
On this day, last year, I wrote:
My mom’s breathing has changed. She has the guttural rattle that they call the death rattle. She will be absolutely free from pain very soon.
I didn’t want my mom to die.
But that was selfish.
I wanted her to stay alive.
Because I wanted her to be here,
for me.
I wanted her safe, comfortable, and happy, but I wanted her to be all of those things here, on earth. I wanted her to be able to be who she once was. I wanted none of what had happened to have happened. I wanted to go back to the time before the pandemic. I wanted to forget about the shut-downs, the masks, George Floyd, BLM, Antifa, riots, insurrections, stolen elections, Ukraine, mRNA technology and mandates.
I wished that life could have been different from what it had been.
Of course, it doesn’t work that way. Once a decision is made, and an action is taken, it is done. It is in the past. There is no going back. We rarely have the luxury of changing our mind.
As soon as the injection had gone into her arm, it was done. There was no way of taking it back out.
Life on earth is filled with suffering. The pain is part of the experience.
My mom had lived her life.
She had experienced pain. She had experienced hardship. She had experienced persecution. She had experienced loss. She had experienced trauma.
She had experienced profound suffering.
She deserved peace.
My mom was a woman of peace. In the worst of times, she was there with a smile and a helping hand.
As a result, she experienced friendship. She experienced happiness. She experienced joy. She experienced gratitude.
She experienced profound love.
I wanted my mom to stay for me.
At the same time, I wanted her to go.
I wanted her suffering to end.
Two-thousand years ago, a baby was born.
The baby grew to be a man. The man’s name was Jesus Christ.
Jesus told the people that there was a better way to live. He spoke of love, peace, equality, unity and humanity.
He was a threat to the rich and the powerful. He had proclaimed that all men were equal in the eyes of God. According to him, the beggar in the street had as much worth as the greatest pharaoh or priest.
The elite believed themselves to be Gods. They believed that wealth and status afforded them power over the poor and the disenfranchised. They wielded that power with cruelty - feeling righteous in their abuse.
Jesus was telling a different story. He spoke of individual virtue, worthiness and freedom. The people listened to the message. That made him a threat.
He was persecuted socially, politically, spiritually and physically. The most powerful men in the world used every tool at their disposal to shut down his dissenting voice.
But the people heard truth in his message.
His voice could not be silenced.
The kings of the earth were exposed and vulnerable. They were unwilling to give up their thrones - even in the face of the one true God.
Jesus was tortured. He suffered. He died. He was buried.
Nevertheless, his message lives on. Over the course of two-thousand years, people have carried, and repeated, the story of Jesus Christ.
My mom carried that message. She attempted to live that message.
She helped. She gave. She listened. She respected. She nurtured.
She kept the peace.
She walked quietly amid the noise and the haste.
At times, she was persecuted. At times, she was mistreated. There were times when she was threatened. She was hurt, sad and lonely.
She was used and she was abused. She experienced trauma. She experienced pain. She experienced torture.
My God, did she suffer.
None of it mattered. No matter how great her pain became, she held onto her faith. She greeted every human being with a smile that radiated love - no matter what.
My mom was not perfect, but she did her best to be good.
When she saw that there were people in her community who were hungry, she fed them.
When she saw people living on the street, with no protection, she offered them safety and a bed for the night.
When people were sick, she cared for them.
When people were dying, she provided comfort.
She believed in the two-thousand-year-old story. With the words of Christ tattooed across her heart, she had quietly lived an altruistic life.
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Kristi, you’re killing me with the story of your Mama and the profound impact this message will have on our world! So many don’t believe in Jesus Christ, but it doesn’t make Him go away or not exist! I often use gravity as an example…you can’t see it, you might not believe it exists. But jump off a 10 story building and all the way to earth you can say,” I don’t believe in gravity” and the laws of nature will prove you wrong every time! Much is the same either way our Jesus! He created the forces of nature and He is the ultimate power, so I am so grateful that your Mama recognized and represented Him beautifully while she was here! You are touching lives profoundly, Kristi! Your Mama would be so proud!
Kristi, my heart has been drawn to your journey with your Mom from the first time I read one of your entries. I see your Mom in you as you go through all you have done for her. What a heritage. I would love to purchase your book when it is complete.
You have asked for edit suggestions and I would like to offer one. In your account of Jesus life you would want to finish His story. He arose to life again and in that He was victorious over sin and death. Because of that your Mom can be experiencing eternal life in that wonderful place He has prepared for her. He returned to his Father in Heaven to prepare for us too. All we need to do is believe that by faith. To me it’s the only part missing in a wonderful story of your Mom and her legacy you have captured. Please let me know where your book will be sold. 💕
I pray for Gods blessing on you and your family.