Friday, June 11, 2010

My Mother Has Gone Home
This past weekend, I was scheduled to go to Salt Lake City and cry against that cities sodomite parade, however the Lord had other plans.
My mother had been ill for many years and last week gave up the ghost.
Yes, I had an actual mother and a father, raised in a family, not assembled by used body parts of dead saints martyred for the faith. Under an old cathedral by monks with wild dogs running around, then brought to life when hit by a lighting bolt one gray gloomy Sabbath day.

It was my mother “Alice” that was a stepping stone to my belief, fear and service to the Lord as per the Apostle Paul when he wrote to Timothy and gave credit to his grandmother and mother for his faith:

“I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first existed in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice, and I am convinced that this faith also exists in you”

I thanked my mother for being a living example of sincere faith despite any hardship given.
Here is a bit of history with parts of my eulogy regarding my now eternal living mother.

My mother was born in Los Angeles on May 17th 1931

And at a young age she tasted of the Lord and considered becoming a nun.
She joined a convent in Los Angeles in 1946 and before being ordained was visited by her sister one day, and while holding that child, she was so moved with being a mother. She prayerfully considered leaving the convent, getting married and having children. My mother put up a fleece and believed God answered her fleece, therefore she withdrew from the convent in 1948 and plowed a new life. Verily, a bit of my mother died that day in 1948.

My mother while living in the convent would pray for those sinners in the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras, knowing many were Catholics participating and this was not pleasing to God.
In 1983 her youngest son (yours truly) stood on those same streets with banner raised preaching repentance against this public wickedness.

I never knew about my mother praying against that city as being tarnish to her Church, till years after I’d gone to Mardi Gras.
So WATCH WHAT YOU PRAY FOR mothers as one day it may happen in Gods timing.

Most do not know this fact, every year after I was told in 1983 about my mothers’ prayers from the convent, I would visit my mother nights before I departed to New Orleans and asked her to bless my labor. Which she did as she sent her son to publicly contend for the faith.

After my father served during the Korea War, he relocated to Los Angeles where they met, courted and married on Oct 2 1954.

My mother was a stay at home mother, as she was the last person we seen before we slept at night and the one who woke us up in the morning to start our day. Raising 5 children in a small house seemed to be nothing more than her duty and that she did well. I was the youngest child, as I had two older brothers and two older sisters. We went to Catholic school for years and due to living on a Barbers income we were sent to public school to finish our education. Church on Sunday was clockwork as our family seemed to sit in the last pew and to date if we visit that Church we still sit in that same pew.

I grew up with family meetings on the kitchen table, and meal times were open for all conversations, as that kitchen table was our market place of thought. I don’t remember ever having a quiet meal growing up. As a family we were centered with a God and country upbringing and the way my father worked it, if one of us got in trouble, we all got a swat. One swat for not watching out for each other and at least two swats for the one caught in trouble. To his day we keep an eye out for each other, call and visit each other regularly as per Proverbs 22:6
“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he
will not depart from it”

Verily, a bit of my mother died each tim
e her children, left the nest.

As we grew older my mother decided to go back to school and become a nurse, and as clock work she succeeded. Graduated from school she became a LVN in Dec 1971, to which any that knew her understood that this was a tailored career for someone that loved to nurture people as she would soon watch over my father. To date both my sisters are professionals in the medical field.

I had two brothers who joined the military, and a bit of my mother died when they joined the arm forces knowing they would put themselves into harms way. As a family we would meet once a month to pray for our brothers, our military, our government and our country and comfort each other when we had not heard from them.

I saw the toll it took on my mother personally as my oldest brother did 20 years in the 82nd located in Ft Bragg and was involved in mopping up hot spots all over the globe. My other brother served as a chaplain’s assistant for his duration. My mother would weep for joy after getting a phone call from her boys, knowing her sons in uniform were not in harms way protecting our nation.

After my father retired, he became ill for years as my mother discarded her physical illness to care for him. Then Sept 1994 my father died, and A LARGE BIT OF MY MOTHER DIED that very day, but my mother endured to continue to raise us even as adults.

In recent years, my mother had been bed ridden and often in pain.
Pills, shots, in home nursing, doctors and visits to the hospital were as common as breathing, yet she continued to find relief in her faith. She would often smile, crack a ‘one liner’ or have a moment of clarity to make a point.

Then on Tuesday May 25th at 6:20PM my mother quietly gave up the ghost. No more grief and misery as she was surrounded by her children at home as per her wish. My mother passed on from life to everlasting life, just 8 days after her birthday as her faith in God is now a tangible reality.

I believed my mother to be the epitome of a Proverbs 31 woman, and will always enjoy bragging about her to anyone fulfilling Proverbs 31:28
“Her children arise up, and call her blessed

My parents were a dynamite duel in our lives and to that I am thankful.
My father taught me how to walk, talk and work like a man and my mother inspired us to a holy God, taught us the concept of longsuffering, a will to endure and both gave us character as God increased that growth.

Often, when people see me preaching on the streets, I am accused of being saved in prison, or an ex-biker that came from a broken home, with the baggage of drugs and alcohol. Just from a visual. Nothing can be further from the truth, as I thank my parents for forming and putting the fear of God in me to wax strong in the Lord. I even now long for heaven to once again be with my (wipe a tear) parents again.

I am now a 49 year old orphan, are there any takers…….I am potty trained?