Trusting through the pain

  I look into the bathroom drawer and her make up still sat there even though she has been gone, almost ten months.  Standing up, gazing into the mirror, I was taken back.  In my minds eye, I could see her there, dusting her face with powder, putting on her lipstick and blotting it by kissing a tissue.  She would finish off by combing her hair and spraying her perfume, a lot of perfume :0).  I always enjoyed watching her get ready.  I was brought back by the tear streaming down my cheek.  I stood there, dark eyes staring back at me,  gazing at the dark curls and olive skin, like hers.  It is all the little things that I think of from my childhood.  Her sitting in the kitchen having a cup of coffee, folding the laundry in the evening, reading a book.  There was always a book, a page dog eared, sitting somewhere in the house.  Working in the yard.  Mom loved to be outside, whether she was tending her flower beds or going on her four mile walks.  I never knew it, till one day towards the end, she loved to watch the clouds.  She was asking for her window shades to be opened so she could look out  at the clouds.  I think that there were a lot of things that I didn't know about my mom, that now I'll never have the chance to.  It's ok though, somewhat painful, but God carry's us through the pain, He doesn't make us exempt from it just because we are His.   I have to trust in Him and His sovereignty.  This is a hard journey and some days it seems as though it will never end, but I know there is One that sticks closer than a brother and I am so grateful for that.


TTFN,
Margaret