Pastor Doug Newell, IV

I hated school with every fiber of my being, but of all the days I had to go, the last day was my favorite. The elementary school always had a party and there was never any work, and most kids left after lunch.

But best of all,  my Mom would pick me up early and I wouldn’t have to ride the bus, which I hated almost as much as school. Mom and I would walk together down the long hallway of Sunshine Elementary towards to exit and my freedom. I would have all the junk I accumulated through the year stuffed in my backpack, making me look like an over prepared Sherpa marching toward home.

Mom would race to the exit, turn around and tell me that I didn’t graduate to the next grade officially until I made it outside, and she wasn’t going to let me go. I tried to get past and she would bear hug me and wouldn’t let me open the door. Struggling for freedom, I finally made my way out the door, victorious over her plans to keep me in school and from moving on to the next grade. I made it.  We climbed in the car and she looked at me, smiled and said she couldn’t believe I was getting so old and I was growing up too fast. I didn’t understand how she could be proud, happy, and sad all at the same time about a kid getting out of the 2nd grade.

This past December, I stood over Mom’s casket and I wanted to tell her I was sorry and that I loved her. I wished that we could have talked about those happy days and made some more memories. I didn’t want her to move on and graduate, even though it’s better for her to be with Jesus (Philippians 1:21-23). But I couldn’t stop her from moving on any more than she could stop me from growing up (Job 14:5).

I have sadness about Mother’s Day this year. But I’m going to honor my mother by loving my family and being thankful for the time I had with Mom. I’m going to remember the gospel and go to the healing cross for forgiveness of all times I broke the 5th commandment. I’m going to remember my Saviour and thank him for giving me the assurance of eternal life through his blood, and the hope of a glad day and happy reunion, where all tears will be wiped away, and all sorrow will be passed. My sadness makes me think of the land of endless days, with no more goodbyes, who will (and does) turn my sorrow to joy. I don’t mourn like those who have no hope. So, if your mother is still alive, pick up the phone. Go visit her and hug her neck. I’m going into Mother’s Day proud, happy, and sad – all at the same time — reminiscing about a mom who loved her oldest son.