Acts of Faith
I realise now of course that acts of faith are carried out in every day actions. My own mother was very much like that. She never was one for maudlin displays of emotion or booming declarations of love. Mother's love was present in the fact that I never went to school or bed hungry. I wore the latest fashions to school and to dances I had an allowance large enough to treat myself and others to smokes and candy at teen dances and even though my mother and I argued about me smoking and my wardrobe she always allowed me to make my own mistakes.
I laugh now at how, age fourteen, I'd saunter out the door in a micro dress the size of a postage stamp. My poor father would say "Sheila, you're not letting her out of the house like that!" and Mom would say, "Albert, that's how young girls dress these days! She's just being fashionable." Even though she hated my wardrobe choices she always defended me.
Mom's love was present in the fresh-baked bread and other home-cooked meals. She hated convenience food and only tolerated us eating TV dinners and other "crap" as she so aptly put it because we'd fight for it!
When I saw her in hospital as she was dying from a bladder infection that devastated her whole system I was overwhelmed with how helpless she looked, and I was so sorry for everything I'd put her through. I wished I could tell my seventeen year old self to stop swearing like a sailor at her and look ahead, but life always has regrets.
When Mom died that night I wanted to smash the house up with my rage and pain at how unfair it all was, especially since Mom begged me "Don't ever get married or have kids. Don't waste your life the way I wasted mine."
Instead I went to sleep and I was woken by The Byrds "Turn! Turn! Turn!" That was a song Mother loved. That afternoon my older sister came with funeral memorial notices with Ecclesiastes 3 that has that quote the song is based on. I knew right away that this was God's way of assuring me that Mother was safe and where she needed to be.
A year later, the same week of the anniversary of Mom's death, I was woken by "Turn! Turn! Turn!" playing on the radio.
Yet even more moving than this was on Saturday 3 December 2016 when I went to The Temple to do vicarious work for my parents and ancestors. I was uncertain that my mother and nan had accepted the work I did for them. After all, in this mortal life they were strict Catholics.
However, that night I was attending a singles meeting and Brian had the radio tuned to a classic station. The Kingston Trio's "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" was playing. I had not heard that song in over 30 years-my mother used to sing it to me when I was little. She also told me it was a favourite of her mother's, my nan. All at once I realized it was no coincidence that I was hearing that song beloved of my mother and grandmother. It was a sign to me that Mother and Nan acknowledged and accepted the work I did for them at the Temple that morning. This is REAL and this work is right. Nothing can distract me from that!
I laugh now at how, age fourteen, I'd saunter out the door in a micro dress the size of a postage stamp. My poor father would say "Sheila, you're not letting her out of the house like that!" and Mom would say, "Albert, that's how young girls dress these days! She's just being fashionable." Even though she hated my wardrobe choices she always defended me.
Mom's love was present in the fresh-baked bread and other home-cooked meals. She hated convenience food and only tolerated us eating TV dinners and other "crap" as she so aptly put it because we'd fight for it!
When I saw her in hospital as she was dying from a bladder infection that devastated her whole system I was overwhelmed with how helpless she looked, and I was so sorry for everything I'd put her through. I wished I could tell my seventeen year old self to stop swearing like a sailor at her and look ahead, but life always has regrets.
When Mom died that night I wanted to smash the house up with my rage and pain at how unfair it all was, especially since Mom begged me "Don't ever get married or have kids. Don't waste your life the way I wasted mine."
Instead I went to sleep and I was woken by The Byrds "Turn! Turn! Turn!" That was a song Mother loved. That afternoon my older sister came with funeral memorial notices with Ecclesiastes 3 that has that quote the song is based on. I knew right away that this was God's way of assuring me that Mother was safe and where she needed to be.
A year later, the same week of the anniversary of Mom's death, I was woken by "Turn! Turn! Turn!" playing on the radio.
Yet even more moving than this was on Saturday 3 December 2016 when I went to The Temple to do vicarious work for my parents and ancestors. I was uncertain that my mother and nan had accepted the work I did for them. After all, in this mortal life they were strict Catholics.
However, that night I was attending a singles meeting and Brian had the radio tuned to a classic station. The Kingston Trio's "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" was playing. I had not heard that song in over 30 years-my mother used to sing it to me when I was little. She also told me it was a favourite of her mother's, my nan. All at once I realized it was no coincidence that I was hearing that song beloved of my mother and grandmother. It was a sign to me that Mother and Nan acknowledged and accepted the work I did for them at the Temple that morning. This is REAL and this work is right. Nothing can distract me from that!
