My Eulogy for Mom

My Eulogy for Mom

Bethany Gates

September 26th, 2009

My Mother, Bonnie Ann, was the most beautiful woman I have ever known.

She always had a smile on her face, sparkly eyes, a word of encouragement, and a hug.  She was known by so many as a tender nurse who not only bandaged up your wounds, but spoke to your heart and gave the flame of your faith more kindling.  I remember her telling me, these past three years, as she would go off to work at the hospital, that she just wanted to be Jesus to her patients, to love them.  I asked her how she got through working those shifts, when she herself was in so much pain from treatments, she told me it was because of God's love for her, Jesus sacrifice on the cross for her, and His calling on her to love any and everyone he brought to her path.  This was my mother. 

 

My Mother was known by many as a faithful friend; who wanted the best for you, even if it meant saying things you didn't want to hear.  She was the kind of friend, who saw you in the light of Christ, who called out the best in you, and who believed in you when even you couldn't believe in yourself.  She was the kind of friend that would go "deep" in conversation, swimming through the mysteries of God, life and the human struggle, as well as the kind of friend that would also enjoy a quiet stroll outside, shopping for treasures, her beloved antiques, eating ice cream, and laughing over a cup of coffee.  This was my mother.

  

My Mother was known as a fun mom, who threw amazing birthday parties.  Not just one party, no; with mom, we had a friend party with all our 20+ classmates at some exciting, over-priced, over-stimulating, area kiddie attraction and a family party with all our aunts, uncles and cousins.  I remember numerous birthday parties, where Mom made me feel so special, each card, each gift, each candle was filled with so much forethought, love and excitement over my life.  This was my Mother.

 

For me, I knew my mother as a loving, nurturing, inspiring, faith-filled woman.  She was my biggest fan, and knew and loved me better than anyone.  My relationship with my mother has been the closest, most intimate of my life, for she knew me in the womb- all my idiosyncrasies, strengths and weaknesses.  She never ceased to affirm me, to speak into me who God made me to be, to remind me what was true.  She believed in me and loved me when I couldn't believe or love myself.  This was my Mother.

 

In addition, my mom taught me about Jesus, not just with words and Scripture, but with her touch, her listening ear, her attentive eyes, her warm voice, her hugs and kisses, and her heart that exuded the grace which she knew herself from God.  When I think about why I believe in God, why I trust Jesus, and why I love Jesus, the first thing that comes to mind is the childhood my parents gave me.  Through their 32 year marriage of commitment in the peaks and valleys of life, my parents gave my siblings and me a safe space to call home, to be free and loved into our person-hood, given wings to take flight.

It is in the childhood my mother gave me, that I first knew love and came to know God.  A childhood filled with laughter, cuddles, sillyness, prayers, make believe, and just enough discipline to still feel free.  I experienced the Presence of God through my mother and her steadfast commitment to my family and me.  She lived her life from the love she knew in her own walk with Jesus and generously spread this love to all who crossed her path. 

 

With her cancer diagnosis, I really saw my Mother's true character come forward.  She wanted a miracle from God, and didn't stop believing He could do it, and yet she yielded herself over to Him regardless.  Ultimately, she knew He was her Sustainer, she let herself and her days be unto Him. 

 

None of us wanted this, especially my Mother, she wanted more time to give, to love.  And I am tempted to despair, but something inside me says, "No, Jesus has been here too and He made a way through this."  This Something Inside, spurs me on to consider how Jesus too, asked for "this cup" to be passed from him, how he didn't want to die either and yet he surrendered himself to God.  And so did my Mother.  She never stopped praying, praising and loving God.  Each trial pushed her deeper and deeper into her relationship with Him, which really is all she ever needed and wanted.  This was my Mother.

 

As I grieve this tragic loss, I can honestly say there are not words for this kind of pain, just a soul cry deep in my gut.  I will miss her.  

 

In the book, The Wounds of God, Penelope Wilcock writes, "We can offer no solutions, no easy answers, to other people's tragedies…It is Jesus they need, and even he offers no answers.  He offers Himself.  It is when people find their way through to him that the pain of their life becomes the pain not of death, but of birth.  A thing of hope."  This was my Mother.

 

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