Feeling The Pain

She prayed. And the angels sang. She sat with fellow believers in earnest prayer and God spoke to her and welcomed her to His eternal peace. That was the second week of March a few years back when my mother was taken into God's glory. And yet today, I still feel the pain. I walk around the house remembering that fateful day when my Mom passed away. I go about my day with this emptiness that I cannot explain. All I could do is pray. 

I told this story of my mother's passing to one of my friends here in Kaohsiung. My friend responded: "Many Chinese would like to have a death like that of your mother. They would like to breath their last while they are sleeping, or even better, while they are talking to God in prayer." I appreciate my friend's listening to my story. And yet, today, I still prefer my mother to be with me right now. I want her to be in my house here in Kaohsiung talking to my daughter and son, playing with them, talking with my wife, Sarah, and joining me when I am working at my potted plant garden. She would like that. She loves gardening. She likes singing. She loves so many things. And I know my mother would enjoy life here in Kaohsiung, Taiwan.

Every time March comes, I remember my mother. I have shared with you about the details from another time here in my blog. (Click this LINK to read my story of my mother.) And yet, I still taste the freshness of that experience. This morning, I run around the Art Museum Park here in Gushan District, to commemorate my mother's passing on March 11, 1990. This was not just another exercise run, but a moment to be by myself and to find time to feel my pain in its deepest level. It was a hard run. I think I prayed more than I ran. Really, that is all I can do; pray. I prayed for Jesus to run with me and feel my pain. I did not want him to take away my pain because I still wanted to remember my mother. Until now, I feel the pain and I remember.