Reader Shannon Wilson sent me this amazing story about her Mom. Please welcome Shannon to the blog and savor this beautiful story.
For the past 15 years, my mother has talked to me about the day that she would die. My mom holds loosely to this life, primarily because she holds tightly to the promise of her Savior, knowing life is a vapor and she has the treasure of eternity with Christ just up ahead. She started countless sentences with this phrase: “Shannon, when I’m gone… ” The first several times, I was horrified. Who wants to think about their vibrant and healthy mom dying? But she did it anyway, throwing the idea around with the ease of a pizza order.
Over time I got used to this odd “coaching” that only my mother seemed to do. She would receive an eyeroll from me in response to her casual banter about the day I wouldn’t have her beside me. I told her time and time again that just because she prepped me about this wouldn’t make the day easier for me when it actually arrived.
Alongside this “prep,” there are truths of God that she has hammered into me over the years. She said this to me, “It is the time in between the valleys, when you are on the mountaintop, that you press hard into Christ. When you are not in the valley, when you are on a peak, don’t forget to know him well in these days, because a valley will come.” This was not a gloomy, pessimistic view; my mother is the opposite of those things. She is a dispenser of wisdom and I had grown up enough (finally) to heed her words. After a season in the valley, I came to a mountaintop. I pressed in to Christ and remembered her words, “Press in on the mountain, a valley will come.”
On January 14, 2014, my mother didn’t show up for an appointment. The police even used the phrase “missing.” Finally, we got the call that brought her location into the open. She had a severe stroke that induced a brain seizure. Her brain was bleeding and seizing while she was driving on major highway. She got up to 90 miles per hour and slammed into a guard rail. She had just been taken to the trauma center. Come quickly. In an instant we went from one crisis – My mother is missing – to the next.
Suddenly, I didn’t know if my mother would be alive when I got to her. I did not know if she was alive right then, at that moment while my dad and I were in the car, speeding toward her. In those minutes, the words that my mother had spent years building into me seamlessly and suddenly wove together with the Spirit of God within me.
I wanted my mother to be alive. I prayed desperately for her to be alive, for God to save her. Desperately I prayed, boldly I begged…I was not ready for this to be the day.
At the same time, running a parallel track, I knew that it was entirely possible, perhaps even probable, that my mom was already in the presence of Jesus and seeing him face to face, or that she would be at any moment.
Shannon Wilson lives in NC with her husband and son. Her passion is to write and speak about the riches of God’s Word and encourage women to live out the Gospel in their daily lives. She loves reading, talking, wildly accessorizing and spending time with her family. Connect with her on her blog, twitter and instagram (@shannonhw), or find her on Facebook.