Mami,
It’s been a while. We have some catching up to do.
If I let myself, I start getting overwhelmed by the fact that it’s been almost 13 years since I’ve seen you… but when I step outside of earthliness, I realize that I see you e v e r y w h e r e.
If you don’t believe me, let me show you just how far back this goes.
When I moved into college, Carrie gave me stack of letters you wrote when you and my dad got married. From that time, before you even had kids, you were writing prayers and letters proclaiming LIFE over our family, believing whole-heartedly that “OUR family would love God and love His people”. You didn’t just pray this once, mom, you made this request your song.
Thank you for singing it so relentlessly — because after fourteen years of living an apathetic life, 14 years of cauterizing any hint of pain that crept my way by numbing my pain,
I met Jesus for myself.
I see you, momma, because every morning I step into new freedoms, and everyday I sit with Him know that I am BELOVED, I see firsthand that Jesus brings to completion what his children ask for full of faith.
I can’t help but think if you hadn’t been so relentless in this prayer, that I may not be here today.
It doesn’t stop there, though. Even after I met Jesus, I chose repression over healing because healing meant I had to talk about you vulnerably. This wasn’t going to work for me, because “you were /my/ mom, and no one gets to try to understand how I feel about /my/ mom,” I thought. I thought this way for 2 more years after I gave my life to a God who promises freedom from every crevice of our lives. Instead of leaning into that, I was cowering away — from JOY and LIFE and choosing my comfortable place of doubt and self-pity.
If you’re keeping up with the math here, you’re absolutely right. I took me 10 YEARS after losing you to realize it was time to rip of some bandaids and let this big ole hole heal. 10 YEARS.
So, I grieved. (Better late than never, right?)
I grieved every night like I had just lost you that very same day. I’d grieve harder remembering the person I wanted to comfort me was the one I was missing so much. I wept, I begged, I did /not/ understand.
But this is not a sad story.
At the very surface of it, Jesus provided brothers and sisters and a boyfriend — all beyond my wildest dreams. They gave me space to feel the pain of losing a mom even ten years after the fact. The listened, they were empathetic and patient.
I have felt loved so deeply by so many I will never come close to deserving.
I see you in this love.
This real, raw, ugly cry, laugh because it helps, distract but don’t forget, vulnerable, deep love.
If I learn nothing else from this whole thing, it’s that LOVE is the single most powerful force in all of creation. I don’t care what religion or background or if you made your own dang religion up… LOVE changes everything.
I aint never gonna stop doin it.
Beyond this, my spirit (grudgingly) came to the realization that no matter what I think is “fair,” no matter if I have anyone to listen or to hold me, no matter if I’m being lied to or forgotten about, (the hardest) no matter if everyone I love so much is taken from me…
JESUS. IS. STILL. GOOD.
More than good. Devine! Perfect! The best life there is!!! But I wont get caught up in all that.
Talk about freedom, mom. Talk about freedom. Jesus’ character was never meant to be contingent on what I thought my life would look like or be deserving of. Knowing whole heartedly that no matter the circumstance or tragedy or catastrophe, that there is a father who is madly in love with me and my heart? That changes everything.
A week after I realized this, (like really really realized this at your grave in Raleigh, NC), I went on my first International mission trip.
There, I spoke life and truth while translating… IN THE LANGUAGE YOU TAUGHT ME!!!
(I see you!)
Mid-way through the week I was baptized by one of those brothers I mentioned before…
IN WATERS that TOUCH ALL NATIONS. Just like you did while you were here. (I seeee you!!)
And I can’t help but tear up thinking about life’s parallels, because if you swipe, you’ll see me getting christened in your arms in an International church in Panama.
The story keeps getting better from there. Our family now has a step-brother, Brandon, my best friend Brooke became my step-sister a few years back, and about Carrie — I don’t have words. She is a leader, a sister, a friend, a mother — it’s like you picked her out yourself. DEVINE. I see you when I go home. Your spirit’s song, that your family would love Jesus and love others ferociously, is bursting with victory as we speak.
I recognize how bold Ana Beatriz Larson’s faith was 13 years ago has rippled to such greatness.
You set the stage, mom.
You help me recognize our AMAZING, triumphant, boundless father — who has never for a second taken his eyes off of my heart.
Today, in the midst of what WAS and COULD BE full of sadness, I can celebrate loudly.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!
You have healing and fullness of life! I can’t wait to see you again.
I love you, always.
Monica
Grace In Between 