Mother Elizabeth's
Passage to Heaven
The
months had been stretched … twisting
cruel … with broken bones, surgeries,
pain, hours of pushing herself with the exercises of rehabilitation, followed by long
lonely night hours; she was so weary … so ready
… longing from the depths of her heart
… to just rest in the arms of Jesus and draw that last breath … to
move through the waiting threshold into eternity with her Savior.
The
last two days … my little mother, Elizabeth, was so beautiful, as fragile and pure as
a new baby. Her skin was luminous, the soft
curls around her face gleamed with a new silver against the white cotton of her pillow. She was simply waiting … no more pain …
the very air around her moved with an expectant peace.
The day before, my father was quietly brought into the room to see his Elizabeth. He held her hand, sitting in his wheel chair, his faded eyes searching her face while he prayed and told her he loved her. We heard him murmur, "My Elizabeth, always faithful ... always true."
Family
and ministerial friends eased in and out of the room … whispering their prayers,
saying their loving good-byes in their own individual space of heart and soul.
My
children, how blessed I was to be her daughter; carried under her devoted heart,
familiar with the sound of her voice in prayer – long before my birth. She knew I would be there with her … we had
talked many times through the months of her physical travail: she listened while I spoke to her in my
imaginative way of Heaven … with her sweet trusting look … accepting the scenes
I described – just as I had listened to her throughout my childhood while she told
the stories of Jesus.
Monday
afternoon … her breathing was different … a constant gasp with each breath. Sitting beside her I heard the gasp
disappear … & moved to stand beside her bed.
Yes, she was breathing … silent sweet breathing … without struggle
… and my heart knew.
Holding
her beautiful hand, encircled with mine … knowing … it was time …
It
was as if some loving spirit guided me to sing … simply the name of
"Jesus," soft and steady … "Je..sus," knowing those two tones of
His name would somehow envelope her soul and set her mind free from fear … to yield
and flow with her spirit. She struggled
gently to lift her eyelids … and, on the second attempt ... opened them ...
looked into my eyes for a brief second ... then dropped that curtain to look
instead at the visions of the soul.
"Je…sus
Je…sus" His name … held every word and thought and feeling
… the complete story of my mother and her God.
She breathed
out the last long breath .... I could see a pulse in her throat ... faintly it beat three
more soft pulses ... and then, no more.
At
that moment … that eternal moment ... from the very fountain of my being came
the joyous note of Hal-le-lu-ja ... on a higher cadence of melody. The singing served as my breathing …
during that hollowed time when Jesus and His angels drew her soul away from this time and
space.
Never
fear death … with Jesus Christ as your Saviour… He simply takes you with Him
… setting you free from this time and space.
The saints were
gathered at the gate,
The angels were
gathered at the gate
Heaven’s host
were gathered at the gate
The beautiful gates of
Heaven…
Heaven’s host
gathered at the gate…
the beautiful gates of
Heaven
The glory of God shown
around them
While they gathered at
the gates of Heaven…
to welcome
God’s servant
home.
Glory glory …
glory, glory …glory glory …
How beautiful the face
of Jesus…
Glory glory, glory
glory … glory glory …
Hal le lu ja …
hal le lu ja … hal la le ja
How tender is the
touch of the Saviou
With Love…
He calls His Servant
home…
She has fought a good
fight…
She has finished the
course
She has kept the
faith…
...
With Love….
God calls His servant
home.
With saints all
waiting at the gate
With the angels all
waiting at the gate
With Heaven’s
host all waiting at the gate.
With Love.
God calls his servant home
These are the lyrics of an anthem given to
me several weeks before my Mother Elizabeth’s passing.
I was driving over the freeways … going home from the hospital after
being with her … and the music filled my mind … causing me to sing and lifting
the pain from my heart. Many times I sang
this to her in those last days. I can still
her face and the perfect communion shining from her eyes while she listened. What a heritage God gave to us … her children
& grandchildren & students. Someday
we shall meet her at the gate of Heaven …. Hold
fast to that faith and the truths of God’s Word she taught to us all.
Beth
January 12, 2000