A Priceless Work of Art in the Making

This is not the post I had scheduled for today. In fact, this is not even today. This is Saturday, October 21, 2023. As with any other day, I have no idea what this day will have looked like by the time its evening has come. By the time this goes to post, today will look very different to me than it does right now. What it looks like right now, is that Mom will very soon be Home. It looks sort of like the past two days have looked. In between the "regular" things life requires, we will be spending time next to her bed, quietly chatting in the room, consulting with professionals, taking what we believe are the appropriate measures, and walking Mom comfortably, respectfully, calmly to her front door.

For so long I have prayed that Mom would simply close her eyes to sleep, and in the morning, I would discover her empty frame. That might yet be, but not without this part of the journey, apparently. And this part is wrought with decisions, and unknowns, and memory dumps, and uncommon sounds and smells, and was being corrected to is, and endless calls and text messages, and equally as endless prayers, and all sorts of other things. As of this moment, I can't speculate as to why. Why couldn't she just "go gentle into that good night?" But the verse on which I was meditating this morning was this:

I will consider all your works

and meditate on your mighty deeds. ~ Psalm 77:12 (NIV)

The Message translation reads:

I'll ponder all the things you've accomplished

and give a long, loving look at your acts.

There are accomplishments: BIG picture. And then, there are acts, the "little things." For instance, the canceling of an event in the expectation of bad weather that never comes. Why? Well, Romans 8:28 assures that all things work together for good to those who love God, to His elect. So, the cancellation of a much-anticipated event is for our good. It's one of those "little things" God does or allows that make up a bigger picture; His deeds worked together, woven together to compose His masterpiece, like threads in a priceless tapestry. We say Rembrandt's Night Watch is a priceless work of art, a whole; but within that whole are smaller elements: lines, textures, colors. The work is a composite of deeds, acts, choices; but who celebrates a single brushstroke? Well, when you see what that brushstroke accomplishes, the way it reflects light and adds depth to the whole, it becomes easy to appreciate. 

But getting back to God and Psalm 77:12. He does things we can't or don't understand --like the cancelling of that event. "Little things." When we later hear of a terrible accident that occurred on the road we would have been traveling, we can fully understand and be grateful for God's intervention. BIG picture. However, do we have an attitude of gratitude before we understood the whole? The psalmist tells us we can dwell on all of God's acts and interventions, every small piece without fully experiencing or understanding the whole. And Paul, in Romans, backs that up with the assurance that everything is being collated and collaborated for the benefit of God's children.

Right now, I think I know what will transpire. I think I have a pretty good vantage point. I think that, as I see act after act, moment after moment, as we consider option after option and result after result, Mom is drawing closer to her front door; I can't know for sure at this point. But I can praise our God for every single brushstroke.

Update: Mom is not yet Home. As I mentioned, "I have no idea." But God does, and it is God in Whom I place my trust. I believe Mom has as well.