“He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.” Isaiah 25:8

Early Saturday morning, February 8, 2020, I sat by my Mom’s side, holding her hand, speaking softly of eternity, and singing “Families Can be Together Forever,” as she moved from this earthly life of care to a far sweeter one with Jesus. Many times, in the last few weeks, we talked of my dad, waiting for his “Sweetie Face” on the other side. We discussed Mom’s parents, and other family members, and how happy they’d be to see her. We considered together the blessing of resting from her cares, worries, and responsibilities, which she took seriously. We spent time with my sweet sisters, and laughed and reminisced about the precious gift of family, and the cherished memories we hold on to forever. We gazed at the painting of Jesus by the shore, hung on the wall directly in front of her bed, and anticipated His loving embrace.

As my sisters and I made this sweet and sorrowful journey with our dear mother, I felt the Spirit teaching and strengthening me. I had so much to learn. I struggled, every day, nearly every minute, to give up the illusion of control, and give it all to the Lord. Because I was taking care of Mom at our home, and hospice nurses and aides only came a couple of times a week, I was responsible for most of Mom’s care. Her disease progressed so rapidly, we had a day or two of feeling we’d gotten the pain under control and were stable, then there’d be a dramatic change for the worse, that threw us into chaos and fear. I fiercely tried to control what was happening, to help her and ease her pain. I tried to find the right meds, the right position, the right equipment, and the right help to keep her from further suffering.

My will was for my elderly, fragile, dear mother not to suffer. My human thinking was that pain is “bad” and “senseless” and “unkind.” My limited understanding caused my constant pleading that she would be spared, protected, released. When those agonizing prayers weren’t immediately answered, I sometimes questioned if I was important to God, after all. I forgot, in the darkest moments, that giving up my will, and turning everything over to the One who loves me most and uses everything for my good, is the way to find peace. I talked to God all day, every day. He was the One I knew understood. And still I hurt. I questioned. I wanted God’s love to be manifested in MY will. Instead, His wisdom, His generosity, His mercy, were made manifest through my broken acceptance of HIS will.

Satan never gives up, never sleeps. He’s in those battles. He worked on me sleepless night after sleepless night. He knew I’d be weaker, more vulnerable to his unrelenting attacks, but I wasn’t defenseless. Besides my constant prayers, each day I was committed to studying the Book of Mormon. I’d torn out the page, in the front of the Come Follow Me manual, with the promises of prophets, about reading the Book of Mormon daily, and stuck it on my bookcase. I clung to those promises, and the many blessings and witnesses I’d received, throughout my life, of the love and kindness of my Savior. I fought back, armed with His word and my testimony, until I could hand over my will, fully, thankfully, to the One who already bore all the suffering my mom and I were enduring.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, I have peace and joy, along with the grief of temporary parting. His atonement and resurrection make it possible for families to be sealed together for eternity. I’ve had the sacred gift of being by the side of both my parents as they made the transition from this life to the next. I’ve felt the sweetness of death, as another birth, with similar pain, suffering, and hard work, followed by inexpressible joy and gratitude. I’ve felt the Spirit witness of life before, and life after, this one. I know I’ll see my mom and dad again, when it’s time, and they will be close by until then. I know my Redeemer lives and loves me. He never abandoned me, but stayed by my side, by Mom’s side, teaching, strengthening, and carrying it with us.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23