You Can Endure Anything When You Know It's Temporary

In January of 2003 I made my first official move after college to California with a friend. I had a job lined up that would start the first of March and hers started right away. That left me working a temporary job, sitting in front of a computer 8 hours a day in a warehouse. I was miserable. I called my Mom often to tell her I just could do it any more and she'd talk me off the "quit Your Job" ledge. Finally one day, probably exasperated by my complaining and lack of gratitude, yet as always, being my biggest cheerleader said, "You can endure anything when you know it's temporary!" That has been my mantra many times in my life when things haven't turned out the way I wanted.  I say it to myself (often) when I'm working out or hiking carrying two backpacks. To me the saying is full of hope, optimism, strength and confidence.

When I moved home at the beginning of September I would spend every evening with my Mom. We'd sit in her bed after the grandkids had gone to sleep and watch a show together (or a few). I'd leave around 10 or 10:30 (well past my normal bed time). Mom would walk me out to the steps of the front porch; after a hug and kiss goodnight I'd walk to my car, start it up, pull a u-turn and stop to wave goodbye to my Mom.  She would patiently wait every night and wave, and wave, and wave goodbye as I drove away.  I distinctly remember one night saying out loud to myself, "One day she won't be able to do that."

Tonight for the second time in a row, I had the privilege of tucking my Mom into bed. We tuck her feet

into the quilt that lays at the bottom of her bed, she lays on her side and I cover her with a warm fuzzy blanket.  I lean down, hug her tight, try to hold back the tears that are always so close to the surface, whisper in her ear to sleep well and tell her how much I love her, then kiss her cheek and forehead.  With the flip of a switch her bedroom is dark, and I slip out. All the way home I pray for angels to be with her, to protect her if she gets out of bed. I plead for her pain to be eased. I petition for a Christmas miracle that she'll gain her strength and be able to enjoy the family events this weekend we are all looking forward to. And I ponder the purpose behind Mom being asked to endure so much pain, Why after a life of being aquatinted with constant physical pain and ailments is she being asked to suffer so much more. And then I hear my Mom's voice on the phone, "You can endure anything when you know its temporary."

In one quick moment I pray it's temporary for her. And I think of the words in this song, that have echoed in my heart for months now,

The Robe

(Jenny Phillips/Tyler Castleton)

Faithful women reached through the crowd
And her hands gently touched Your robe
And You through Your grace made her whole
And now my broken body is fading fast
And like her I’m searching through the crowds
Desperate to find You somehow

And I’m reaching for that robe
I know that You can make me whole
But if its not meant to be that way
If I can’t stay
Then just wrap me in that robe and hold me when I go

If You call me home to You
Please help those who love me understand
We are still held together by Your hands

I’m reaching for that robe
I know that You can make me whole
But maybe in a different way
If I can’t stay
Then just wrap me in that robe, and hold me when I go

Hold her when she goes
Hold her when she goes

Right now we take turns wraaping Mom up in our arms and holding her; enduring this temporary painful time together. I am grateful to know that her suffering is temporary. Grateful to know that one day she will be dancing and singing and teaching pain free on the other side of the vail. And most grateful to know that we are and always will be held together by His hands.  When the time comes, our physical separation is only temporary, and I can endure anything when I know it's temporary. What keeps me going is knowing that she is being wrapped in our Savior's Robe constantly.

Update on Mom: If you've read this far, you can probably tell that this week has not been a good one. Monday afternoon Mom's pain skyrocketed.  She describes it as an internal pain around her rib cage. She feels it is different than a pulled muscle that she experience a few months ago. We do know there are spots of cancer in her bones of her rib cage. I would love if this was just a pulled muscle because that means the pain will subside...  Mom is on a heavy dose of pain meds all the time right now to try to get the pain under control and managed. This means Mom is not always fully with us  and isn't able to get around on her own. We ask that you join with us in prayer for her pain to was up a bit. Send your positive thoughts and blessings her way if you have some to spare!