My little sister, Katina, had been with my mom the morning before she died. She tells of how Mom was sleeping in her recliner pretty heavily when the caregivers came into the room and tried to convince her to go to bed. "Betty, let's get you more comfortable; we'll take you to bed."
"No, I want to go Home. Don't move me."
"But, Betty, we can change your clothes and clean you up. Don't you think you'd be more comfortable in bed? Come on, we'll help you."
Though she didn't really want to, she didn't have the strength to argue. The girls were trying so hard to be careful as they attempted to bring the recliner down, help my mother to stand, get her into her wheelchair, and escort her to the bedroom. But when they released the arm on the recliner, the chair lerched forward. "Jesus Christ!" one of the girls cried.
Katina tells it better than I ever could, but my mom was alert in an instant. The earth stopped spinning for a moment, and the room went silent as Mom turned to face the girl. "Don't you say that," she said.
"Say what, Betty?"
"Don't you say the Lord's name like that."
"Oh, Betty, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."
"You have deeply offended me."
Wow. How many times have I heard others say His name in that way and nervously tried to ignore it? Though my mom had next to no breath left, she bore witness to her faith. She would not tolerate disrespect for her Lord, despite it all.
Who knows what affect that admonishment had on this well-meaning caregiver? How might we show our love for Him today?
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