Mommy | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Mommy | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lydia McCoy
08/26/10
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The room was silent except for the pumping sound of the steady rise and fall of the ventilator machine providing life to the elderly woman. She is my grandma, but we all call her Mommy, and just turned 100 last week. Looking good for her age at the party; if you did not know it you would not think her to be a centurian. Her name is Lydia Bell Culbertson and she is nearly 100 percent Cherokee Indian. Her people live in the Appalachian Mts. of Virginia. I love her dearly and I am her namesake. She was there when I was born and breathed the breathe of life. I am told she wondered if the Lord would let my family keep me because I was so pretty.

I take a deep breath, breathing in the usual smell of the hospital. Silently I pray we can keep her; she is so beautiful, to know her is to love her. Her rugged Indian features add character and life to one whose heart is so full of love, gentleness, life and goodness.

I came after church this Sunday to visit; the worship service was thick with the sweet and reverent presence of God. He takes my breath away as I praise and give thanks to Him, He receives my life my offering. I breath in life that surrounds me, envelopes me, moving through me like a fog, a holy presence. I am lost in His love, mercy and grace. I think about Mommy and all she means to me; she has been my friend, and someone I look up to and desire to pattern my life after. She told me once that when God exhales He gives life to His people and when He inhales He receives life back, from our worship or in receiving us back to Him.

Slowly and quietly other family members enter. Together we are ushered out to the hallway where we meet with the doctor and at hearing the grim prognosis we seem to breathe in unison the realisation of her condition. We pray for her to be able to breathe on her own, as we have been told there is not any more they can do for her. Soon the machine that is helping her breate will be unplugged; it is her wishes being honored. Someone begins to sing her favorite hymn "The Old Rugged Cross", we all join in keeping it mellow and sweet. A sure and beautiful presence of the Lord fills the room and we all weep tears bittersweet, as we are made aware of His love for her.

A hospital tech enters and gives us the signal it is time. Together in unisin we breate a much unanticipated moment. Standing holding hands we say goodbye to someone who served God and her family with every breath of everyday; always giving of her time, her joy, her love and posessions. The room is filled with an unmistaken holy presence, it surrounds us making aware of God's greatness and giving peace. As Mommy is being lifted to Him, He is filling our us. We realise an eternal exchange, God has breathed in taking her home and we are filled with His assurance.

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