A relationship in my life was dead for nine years. From the time I was the age of fourteen to twenty-three, I did not see or talk with my mother. She suffered with severe depression. In this state of mental illness, she would fly into rages without warning. My brother, nine years older was gone. My sister, five years older was gone. I was the only one left to witnesse the depression, the rages, not understanding what was wrong with her. There were days she would just stare at me with her large eyes, me always wondering what was going on in her head. There were days I would come home from school, and she would meet me in the living room, raging over nothing, and shredding the clothes off my body with her bare hands. In the end, I was scared of her. I would go to bed not wanting to close my eyes. I was fearful, of what, I wasn't sure. I was taken away to live with my grandmother. No one explained. I thought my mother didn't love me. And so, I wouldn't love her either. In my young, innocent, naïve mind, I told myself I wanted her to be happy, but I didn't need her in my life. And so she wasn't for the next nine years.
I went on to high school and lived my life. I grew, I graduated, and then married. I had learned to go on with my life without her, not giving her any thought. Then one night as I was dusting my dresser in my newlywed apartment, I heard God clearly speak in my soul, "It is time to call your mother." After nine years of not thinking of her, God led me immediately to my phone and I called her. How I knew her phone number, I still do not know to this day. But I called. She lived a mile from my apartment. I went. A resurrection took place. She greeted me, we hugged, we talked and we sat at her piano for hours and hours playing and singing praise songs, at times crying grateful tears, praising our Heavenly Father for all He had done. . .Resurrecting His Son Jesus after sending Him to die for our sins, to pay the penalty for OUR sins, so we could come into a relationship with a Holy God, to have a heavenly home to go to when we are called. Resurrecting our own relationship to a beautiful reunion, forgiveness not even mentioned because we knew it had been given. My mother had been healed. I had grown up. And after nine years, God spoke and said it was time. That was in 1985.
After enjoying our new relationship for a couple of years, my husband received a job that took us from our Oklahoma home to Arkansas for the next four years. Then from there we moved back to Oklahoma but to another city. After thirteen years, we moved to Kentucky. My mother and I had never lived in the same city after I left for Arkansas, but we had many, many visits, phone calls and e-mails over the years. She became a wonderful, loving grandmother to all her grandchildren, and then great grandchildren. As I became older and more mature, I realized all my mother had gone through and began to understand how strong this weak perceived woman really was. When she totally surrendered to the Lord, she began to rise, being a blessing to all who met her. I found myself proud of this woman who I call my mom. With the Lord, she had overcome what the enemy had meant for harm. With the Lord, victory had been won.
My mother is now 84 years old. My brother and sister who lived in the same city as she, had done a wonderful job of helping her. They had done so for many years, but it became more and more of a job and with both of them working full time jobs, it was time for me, a stay at home wife, to take over. But it took three years for my mom to be ready to leave her Oklahoma home behind. In July of last year, she became ready, and my brother and sister brought her to my Kentucky home to live with me, my husband and younger son.
We call mom the Queen, I am her princess, and together, we worship the King of Kings and Lord of Lords!