Always Prepared

I miss my mother-in-law. Yesterday would have been Marilyn’s 79th birthday. She never saw her 70s. At 69 she was diagnosed with undetected colon cancer the week of Thanksgiving and gone by January’s end. 

It’s important that I tell you she did everything right. She was a nurse for over 40 years. She knew all the things. She ate well and exercised. She kept on top of her health. She did all the screenings and all the scans. They just—somehow—missed it. 

Of course Marilyn did everything right. That’s the kind of person she was. Always prepared. Always well planned. Always on top of everything. But most important, always gracious.

If the paper towel holder was empty, she had plenty of replacements waiting in the wings—or the garage shelves. Oh those garage shelves! Peanut butter all gone? No problem. Pickles? She had them. The amount of bandaids and Tylenol beneath her bathroom sink could have cared for a small village. For the rest of their lives.

Though a trained nurse, she joked often it was really about being a good girl scout. The Girl Scout motto is “Be prepared.” And she was for everything. Other than that unseen cancer in her colon. But even in that surprise, her girl scout ways proved true. She was completely prepared to meet Jesus on that January day when He called her home. Of that, I have no doubt.

She spent her life following Him and serving His people with joy. And I am certain she is taking care of things up in heaven with efficiency and enthusiasm. 

I remember specifically how patient and attentive she was with her aging parents and her own mother-in-law. She would fix a big meal and do all the dishes and be in charge of most everything and then at the end of the evening escort her mom and dad back home to their apartment nearby. I never once heard her complain. I never once heard her sound cross. I didn't realize what I was watching. I am sure I didn't acknowledge how exceptional she was. 

All of these things are so true of Marilyn, but I miss her for selfish reasons too. I miss her wisdom. She was a really good listener and always seemed to know the right thing to say. She rejoiced with those who rejoiced, and she wept with those who wept. I would love to be able to pick up the phone for both the rejoicing and the weeping. 

Life has gotten so incredibly messy in this past decade. More than ever before. So many different things. Yes, my own cancer diagnosis, but much more than that. Relationships. This world. So many issues. So much brokenness and pain and dashed dreams. Some fears. I feel overwhelmed by it more easily than ever before. Some days it simply feels like too much. 

And I wish I could talk things through with Marilyn like I used to do. I know the very first thing she would tell me is to keep my eyes on Jesus. To trust Him with the hard and the holy. To abide with Him in His word and in prayer. And to continue claiming His truths no matter what. 

She modeled that well. Without ever compromising her convictions or beliefs, she was able to love others and move through difficulties with an unbelievable amount of grace. Not that everything was easy and always smooth, but she lived out her faith. Years after she was gone, I, one day, started to thumb through her bible. The way it was underlined and highlighted told me exactly where she found her source of strength. It is such a treasure. 

I don’t think I always received her encouragement especially well. I was young and married to her son and raising her grandchildren and probably trying a little too hard to prove myself. I suppose I was insecure. I’m sure I wanted to impress her. But with this past decade behind me and middle age all around me and my own role as care support for my parents, her words continue to press in deeply in new and different ways. I think that’s what they call leaving a lasting impression. 

Marilyn left a lasting impression. In her quiet, graceful way, she impressed so many things upon me. 

I guess I’m writing this morning to process, but also to praise a familial role that doesn’t always get the right recognition. Mother-in-laws have historically been easy to poke fun at and stereotype poorly. I know lots of you have amazing relationships with MILs. Cherish and protect them.

My encouragement if you’re reading this is to go out and find someone— find a mother-in-law or a girl scout or at least someone who knows how to be prepared. 

Prepared with a kind word. 

Prepared with a willing ear.

Prepared with an open heart. 

Prepared with well-earned wisdom. 

Prepared with God’s truth.

Prepared to rejoice and prepared to weep.

Like my dear mother-in-law, Marilyn.

I'm pretty sure Marilyn would not miss this opportunity to also tell you to start thinking about being prepared to meet Jesus.