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Today's Christian, January/February 2001
Would Mom Ever Believe?
I was providing round-the-clock care, but I almost missed her greatest need.
by Pamela J. Bush
Collapsing on the bed in Mom's spare bedroom, I looked at the clock. 11:35 p.m. I was exhausted.
Setting my clock for 1:30 a.m., I thanked the Lord for soft beds and pillows, before drifting off to sleep.
Click-click, click-click, click-click.
What was that noise? I thought groggily. Then it hit me. It was the clown clicker I'd placed by Mom's hospital bed in the living room—her "call" button for when she needed me.
Frustrated, I threw the covers off as I glanced at the clock: 12:30 a.m. Mom, it's only been an hour! Will you give me a break! I screamed inside.
The stress of the last six weeks was catching up with me. I was in a foul mood when I got to her bedside. At that moment, I wasn't thinking about her cancer-ravaged body. I wasn't thinking about her being paralyzed from the waist down. I wasn't even thinking about her frail 80-something pound body. At that moment on September 11, 1996, I was thinking only of myself.
No room for God
My mom, Hilda, was a strong-willed woman with an outgoing personality. Most everyone who met her liked her. But there was one topic she adamantly refused to talk about—Jesus Christ and her need for him. Ever since my husband Tom and I had surrendered our lives to God, we had been praying for all our family members to make that commitment.
When my father passed away suddenly from a heart attack, we noticed Mom softening a little towards spiritual things, but she still kept us at a distance.
In June 1995, a cancerous tumor was found in her colon. Tom and I were at a convention when I learned Mom was facing surgery. Car problems delayed our return. But I knew my sister and two of my brothers would be there.
When I finally arrived at the hospital, Mom was recovering well. Most of her colon had been removed but enough remained to avert a colostomy. But three tumors had been found in her liver. Chemotherapy needed to begin as soon as Mom's strength returned.
"Hilda," the doctor said, "this isn't good news, but you're being given an opportunity that lots of people don't get. You're being given time. Time to make sure everything's right between you and your children. But more importantly, time to make peace with God and prepare for eternity."
A couple of weeks later, we drove Mom to the oncologist. His findings were equally grim. Of the 50 lymph nodes tested around the colon, 37 of them were cancerous.
A month later, after her first chemo session, bone cancer was detected in her ribs near her spine. According to the doctor, it was doubtful that Mom would see Christmas.
Fighting the odds
Over the next ten months, Mom received chemo every 21 days for five days in a row. Every three months a CAT scan revealed no change in the tumors. Because she was being treated with a milder form of chemo, Mom remained upbeat, seldom showing signs of depression.
During this time, the Lord repeatedly brought Christians across Mom's path. Strangers in the clinic would tell Mom of her need of Christ in her life, but Mom continued to resist.
When my dad died, my husband and I bought my mom a clown figurine because clowns always made her smile. One clown led to another until Mom had an impressive collection of 350 to 400 unique items.
In March 1996, Mom decided to bring a different clown to the clinic each day to cheer up the patients. She delighted in telling everyone the clown's name, story, or other tidbit. Staff and patients looked forward to visits from "the Clown Lady."
One morning at the clinic, I went to the lounge for a cup of coffee. My heart felt heavy. We could visually see signs of Mom weakening and I felt so helpless.
A woman walked in. "Are you related to the 'Clown Lady' or just a friend?" she asked.
"She's my mother," I proudly replied.
"I want to thank you for your mom," she opened up. "Her sense of humor and light-heartedness has been such an encouragement to my mom. Mom said her visits to this clinic would have overwhelmed her if it weren't for your mom. You have a special mother."
I was so proud of Mom, yet we were never close until now when I was losing her!
Pain in body and heart
By May 1996, Mom's bone cancer caused her excruciating pain, yet she still walked on her own, without the aid of painkillers.
In June, Mom's cat scan revealed that the tumors in the liver were growing. The oncologist advised it was time to stop the treatments and contact hospice. Mom agreed.
A few weeks later, my 21-year-old daughter, Rhonda, and I began alternating weeks staying with Mom before an out-of-state job opportunity came up for Rhonda. Then I became Mom's primary live-in caregiver.
During those weeks, many of Mom's visitors talked to her about the Lord. She'd smile graciously but wouldn't want to talk about it.
One day my missionary/pastor husband said, "Hilda, you know I love you. Do you understand that you have a choice between heaven and hell when you die?"
Mom studied his face, then casually responded, "Yes. If I don't choose heaven, then I must be choosing hell. I understand that."
Her answer stunned those of us in the room.
"Hilda, I've talked to you many times about Christ. I know you understand what needs to be done. I'm not going to bug you about it. But whenever you're ready to talk about it … "
In August, Mom started going through heightened physical, emotional, and, I think, spiritual changes. But every time Tom called to see if she was ready to talk about spiritual things, she told him no.
Tiny cracks in the wall
One morning, two men from our mission stopped by to witness Mom's living will. They both spoke briefly to Mom about the Lord. Later, one man remarked, "Your mom's not hostile towards the things of God. She really just doesn't get it."
It did seem like Mom was "seeing but not seeing, hearing but not hearing," as Jesus described in Matthew 13:13. I began praying for God to give me the key to unlock Mom's understanding. Meanwhile, I determined to give Mom the best care I possibly could.
One evening, Mom lay in her hospital bed while I knitted. We had just finished watching "Wheel of Fortune" and "Jeopardy," two of her favorite television shows.
"Pam," she said, "it's not that I don't want to talk about spiritual things."
My heart skipped a beat. Was Mom bringing up a spiritual discussion on her own?
She paused for a moment, then continued, "It's hard to explain, but it's like a wall falls down in front of me every time something is mentioned about God or the Bible. I can't seem to stop it."
Before I could reply, I saw in her eyes that the wall had already fallen again.
By the end of August, as a result of bone tumors pressing on her spinal cord, Mom became paralyzed from the waist down. Every two hours she needed me to shift her position in bed to prevent sores. She still was extremely alert, but began developing phobias at night. I suggested music might help, cautiously mentioning a tape I had recently bought of the Christian pianist Dino. Mom found "Quiet Times" soothing.
The hospice nurses and aides were now coming every afternoon to relieve me for a couple of hours. Sometimes I ran errands or met friends, but most often I slept.
Though I was becoming increasingly stressed, I clung to God's promise, "My grace is sufficient for you" (2 Cor. 12:9).
On September 3, as I kissed Mom good night, she asked, "Do you pray every night when you go in to bed?"
"Yes, I do."
"Tonight, would you mind praying out loud? Do it just like you normally would pray," she requested.
I hesitated. Every night I pleaded for wisdom to break down Mom's wall. Did I dare pray those words? God seemed to impress on my heart, "Do exactly as she asked." So I did.
When I finished, Mom thanked me, asked me to turn on the Dino tape, and turn off the lights. I was dismissed.
Six days later, Tom spent the night with us. Mom surprised us by asking him to read the 23rd Psalm aloud. She attempted to recite it with him. My eyes filled with tears. Surely this is the time she'll receive Christ. But she didn't.
Almost missing my chance
Now it was 12:30 a.m. on September 11th. When I heard Mom's clicker, I was irritated. I marched to the living room and demanded, "What do you want, Mother?"
"Could you turn me on my back?" she asked.
Even though I grumbled, Mom didn't seem to notice. Her next words stopped me. "I was hoping you could tell me how to find your Lord."
For 21 years I'd prayed for this moment, and when it arrived my mind went totally blank. All I could say was, "You what?"
"Pam, after you'd gone to bed, I kept thinking about things," Mom said. "For one hour, I told myself, 'Don't call Pam unless you mean business!' Well, I mean business. Please tell me how to pray for Jesus to come into my life."
So I did, explaining things she never allowed me to say before. At 1:15 a.m. Mom became a child of the King.
Later that morning, Mom wanted to call the family and let them know what happened. My two brothers heard the news in person, as well as my sister who came to spend a few days with us. We all rejoiced in the news.
That night, at 1:30 a.m., I got up to check on Mom. I couldn't wake her. Almost exactly 24 hours after Mom surrendered her life to Christ, she had slipped into a coma. Eight days later, she was in the presence of her Savior. God had answered my prayers and the prayers of others for Mom in his perfect time.
A Christian Reader original article.
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There have been moments during our church's worship service when a current of air makes the altar candles flicker. Sometimes one candle looks like it's been extinguished, then voila! the flame springs up again. One Sunday a candle did go out completely, until an observant choir member found matches to relight it.
My faith resembles that candle. Something blows through my life and nearly snuffs out my faith in God. Most times, like the candle flame, it rekindles itself. But I think of people whose faith needs to be relit with "spiritual matches"—an encouraging word from Scripture or something God's put on our heart. Always be ready to strike that match.
Bette Thomas
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A Christian Reader original article.
Copyright © 2001 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine (formerly Christian Reader).
Click here for reprint information.
January/February 2001, Vol. 39, No. 1, Page 63
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