Nothing else

 

I walked down to Redondo Beach yesterday, rather gingerly as I’ve hurt my back through an over-enthusiastic exercise class in the morning.

I stood on the shore, watching as gentle waves rolled in, erratically rather than rhythmically. Often the waves here crash in one after the other, sweeping the unwary wader off their feet (ask Don about that!). But yesterday they broke softly and sparingly.

I am nearing the end of a long journey walking Mom home. I hesitate to say much because there are one or two things still outstanding to complete, but soon this chaotic, challenging, blessed period will be completely over.

I stood on the shore, remembering. Remembering the tidal uncertainty as we first determined she needed to live in a residential facility for her own safety. Executing that was like surfing a tsunami of boiling emotions – in her and in me. Anger, disbelief, resentment, acceptance, grace, love. Love. Over all, love. Executing that came with a host of challenges: selling the family home, disposing of decades-worth of sentiment and memories, getting to grips with a new set of financial obligations.

It was during those awful days as I drove in tears between house and new residence, that the Lord promised me, in every teardrop there is a rainbow.

Of course, he was right. There have been many teardrops, and many rainbows.

In two days, I will drive out of this oasis my cousin and his wife have provided over these last seven years. They have supported us along this way which had no discernible path, one step at a time. They graciously offered back-up and advice for many situations, feeding and housing me, visiting and loving Mom when I was not here, taking care of things which I couldn’t provide from Scotland. I cannot express adequately the deep, deep gratitude I feel for them.

So that’s another sadness. The bond we have built up over this long pilgrimage is real, and once again, as I leave not knowing when I might be back, I console myself: there are no airports in heaven. No long goodbyes.

Today I will do bits and pieces in preparation for leaving and also for embarking on a road trip Sunday with Mhairi, travelling together to visit friends. Mhairi has very much been part of this journey. For the first years, she was living here and was my eyes and ears. She and her Gramma were each other’s rocks when times were hard. Their love was tested and grounded forever in Jesus. When I visited, we called ourselves the 3 M’s: now, as we drive north, we are the M&Ms.

Today again I plan to walk to the beach and stand on the shore, watching the ever-changing ocean. Trying not to think too deeply, to feel too poignantly, as I prepare to leave behind the rhythm of the last fifteen years and move into a new, alternative rhythm. A fresh rhythm, a new dance, new vistas which will be beautiful as I keep in step with the Lord.

The Israelites couldn’t see God’s footprints through the mud of the parted Red Sea, but they walked through the walls of water anyway, trusting in his provision and protection and guidance.

May I be as faithful as I walk away from Mom’s grave, knowing she is safely home with her Saviour. And as I move forward, perhaps to walk others home or in fact be walked home myself, ‘all my words fall short’.

As the song goes, ‘I have nothing else fit for a king except for a song singing Hallelujah.’

So I throw up my hands, and praise Jesus again and again. He has never left nor forsaken us in this long walk home. And he won’t leave me going forward.

Hallelujah.