Several years ago my dad died suddenly of an aneurysm. One minute he was watching a basketball game with my brother and the next minute he was gone. Too sudden and too early. My siblings and I rushed home to be with my mom. All of our kids came as well and hundreds of folks in my home town surrounded us with comfort and support. Dad loved the Lord so we knew he was at peace although we felt abandoned. Several days after the funeral I had to fly back home. I felt bad leaving my mom and called her on my way home.

“How are you doing, Mom?” I inquired.

“Why I’m just fine,” she exclaimed in her southern drawl. “I’m having the best time cleaning out the refrigerator. One of the blessings in being a woman is that we are used to doing mundane chores like this. It gives us a sense of normalcy and accomplishment while at the same time serving as a distraction! Men don’t have this the way we do.”

Mom showed no hint of self pity, but then she never had. Her life was always one of gratitude. Even when things didn’t look so good she’d often say, “God is working while we are waiting. Remember, He’s working even when we can’t see it.”

With Mother’s Day approaching, I’ve been thinking a lot about her, and I’ve found myself praying more and more, God give me a grateful heart like Mom’s.