On this morning six years ago, I woke up to my phone showing several missed calls and a voicemail from my Dad. As I listened to the message asking me to call him back, I just knew. Before Dad spoke the words that would change my life forever, I already knew my Mom was gone. My brain couldn’t process the how of it, but my heart just knew. 

It’s crazy how quickly life can change; that morning, my precious Mother woke up early, had her Quiet Time and a cup of coffee, fed my Dad breakfast, caught her horse, and proceeded to spend the day like a thousand others before that; working cattle beside her husband. Shortly after being in the saddle, she was taken from us. Even now, I struggle with processing her absence in my life.  

Grief is still doing its work. While no longer a sharp, unbearable pain, it remains a steady and dull ache. What I’ve discovered is that grief is no longer my enemy; I don’t feel the tentacles of it wrapped around my heart, trying to squeeze the life out of it. Grief has become familiar, & dare I say it – even a blessing.

Grief reminds me that my Mother lived her life well. 

Hers was a life that exuded joy, peace & love, a life that shined a faith, a trust, and a love for Jesus so brightly that others couldn’t help but be filled and touched by it. I miss her so deeply, but it’s the grief that keeps her with me.

Grief reminds me of the selfless love, care & compassion she poured into everyone’s life. Grief today makes me think of the wisdom & invaluable life lessons she taught. It brings to my remembrance all of the joy, laughter (often at her own expense) & memories Mom filled our lives with. 

Grief makes me weep for all she has missed the past six years – graduations & births, moves & life changes. However, grief also makes me smile at the knowledge of how much she would have loved & doted on each of her great-granddaughters, how she would have been beaming with pride at the accomplishments of her kids & grandkids. 

She would have handled the selling of the ranch & another move with her usual grit & grace.  She would have been excited for whatever new adventure God had for she & Dad on the Powder River.

She would have continued to live her life well. 

Ultimately, what grief has given me is the desire to live my own life well. The resolve to take hard circumstances in life, give them to God & ask Him how He can use me in them. Grief has given me a determination to not let difficult times weigh me down with anxiety or discouragement, but to praise Him in them. 

Grief reminds me that my mom lived an extraordinary life because it was a simple life.

Hers was a life filled with the joy and contentment found in the little things, gratitude for all that God had blessed her with. She spent very little time feeling sorry for herself or desiring what others had. Mom didn’t need much to make her life rich: only the grandeur of the land surrounding her, cattle bawling on the hillside, the awe of a vibrant Sandhills sunrise, the simple beauty in a Wyoming wildflower, the privilege to work beside her husband, kids, and grandkids; the common, everyday tasks of raising a family, keeping a home, and loving others well. The opportunities to serve a loving God by honoring Him with her life. 

My mother might not have done extraordinary things in her lifetime, but she lived an extraordinary life.

Six years later the missing of her hasn’t really lessened, but neither has my love for her. Grief might have stolen a lot from me when I lost my mom, but God has assured me of the hope I have of seeing her again. Grief brings up the missing of her, but grief also evokes knowledge of all the ways she filled my life with joy, beauty, and an appreciation for the little things. She lived her life so well, I want to honor her by doing the same.