Dear Praying Friends,
Last Sunday we said a final good-bye to my mother. This moment was honoring God and my mother’s last wishes. She wanted her ashes to be laid in the Danube. The funeral home has special boats for this purpose. About 20 of us were ushering my mom on her final journey. As I led the ceremony, I shared the gospel from my mother’s life verse: “I have blotted out your transgressions like a cloud and your sins like mist; return to me, for I have redeemed you.” (Is 44:22) This verse was on her wall all the time. She was so thankful that God forgave all her sins!
When I found her Bible, the bookmark was at the last passage she read before she was taken to the hospital and that was this verse: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” (Jn 7:37–38). She had the Son of God, so she had the living water in her and her life did not end on March 6th at 9:27am. Although I was not able to see her since last summer and was not able to say good-bye to her on this side of Heaven, but I know I’ll see her again!
We are so thankful that many of you made it possible for Edina to join us for this important moment.
This 3 minutes video shows the final moment as we laid my mother’s ashes into the Danube.
It is hard to find the words to describe the past three weeks. Arriving to Hungary, arranging the funeral, finding a place to stay, emptying my mom's room in the nursing home, starting the legal process to close down her bank account, closing her retirement, preparing for the funeral, and the meantime keeping all my ministry appointments (online), continuing all my leadership responsibilities and projects in a completely different timezone and meeting with several Hungarian staff, relatives, etc.. - all these were just exhausting.
This Wednesday, March 29th, Edina and I will return to Kansas City. There are many commitments awaiting us. We really did not have the chance to slow down to process what has happened and properly say good-bye to my mother and grieve her loss. It is surreal to walk in the city where I grew up, where my mother lived, where she was always there and now leaving that city behind again without having the time to process so much.
