Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” (Luke 10:61 NIV)
In the last episode, I had just received confirmation of my family’s calling to Japan– the sign being that of a family of ducks crossing the street. Though I was willing to go, I worried about my mother, who lived for her only grandchildren and would be devastated should my wife and I take them halfway around the world.
I saw the ducks on a Sunday as I was leaving church, on the same day that my parents and brother would come to our home and visit us, as they would routinely do every other week. I didn’t notice anything different about this visit, save for the way my mother hoisted my youngest son high into the air, Lion King-dedication style. I’d never seen her do such a thing before. It was sweet, but poignant.
After spending a few hours with us, my brother and parents said their good-byes and left. I thought I’d see them again in two weeks, but just two days later, my mother would suffer a massive stroke. She was rushed by ambulance to the university medical center near my parents’ home. When I arrived, my mother could still speak a few words, make eye contact, and squeeze my hand.
The medical staff handed my brother and me some documents on caring for loved ones after a stroke. It sounded like my mother would recover, so we had that mindset, thinking about how to make her room wheelchair accessible and considering the possibility of hiring a caretaker to help out.
However, my mother took a turn for the worst, suffering a devastating second stroke on her third day in the hospital. I began to pray and ask God if I should be praying for her healing or for a painless transition to His presence. It became apparent that she would not recover from this second stroke.
On day 7 of her hospitalization, I held a worship service in my mother’s room, with my father, brother, and mother’s best friend surrounding her. (Soo kept the boys at home, as our oldest son was close to his grandma and we didn’t want him to see her hooked up to tubes.) We were singing How Great Thou Art when my mother set free her final breaths.
I vividly remember the sound of the electrocardiogram’s descent into flatlining as we got to the verse:
When Christ shall come, with shouts of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: “My God, how great Thou art!”
Just nine days after I saw the sign confirming my calling to Japan, my mother was gone.
—–
(Before I continue, I must state that I do not believe that God took my mother away because she was “holding me back” from going to Japan. I believe that God had given me a heads-up that my mother would soon enter into His presence.)
My father, brother, and I began working on arrangements for my mother’s memorial service. Emotionally and physically spent from the events of the past nine days, I thought I’d find a bit of respite by going to the opening night of a prayer conference that my church was co-organizing.
It was supposed to be a conference on prayer, not missions, but as I slumped in one of the back pews, the keynote speaker unexpectedly announced, “If you’re called to Japan, you need to go now, ’cause God is doing something there.” He launched into a story about a recent ministry experience in Japan, and he began to preach about the cost of following Jesus.
First, he read the end of Luke 9:
He said to another man, “Follow me.”
But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”
Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”
Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”
Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9: 59-62)
“Okay, God, I get it. My mother is gone, so it’s time to go to Japan,” I muttered silently in prayer.
Then, as if I hadn’t yet gotten the memo, God spoke to me again through the conference speaker, who continued his message into chapter 10 of Luke:
He told them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.” (Luke 10:2)
“God, okay, I’m going to Japan…”
The conference was three days long. Having been overwhelmed by attending the opening night, I traded places with Soo and stayed home with the kids while she attended the second night. During a time of prayer, the person seated next to her, whom she wasn’t acquainted with, gave Soo a word that she was “being sent.”
A few days later, I stopped at a store near our home to buy some items for my mother’s memorial service. When it was time to leave, I was deciding which driveway to exit from and whether to back my car out of its space to the left or to the right.
I backed out to the right and couldn’t move forward, for there, in the parking lot of a Target store nowhere near a pond or lake, was a live duck blocking my path.
“God, seriously, I’ve seen enough signs. We’ll go to Japan. Just please, let me get through this memorial service first.”
—–
About a month after my mother had passed away, I felt that I had given myself ample time to grieve (I hadn’t, but more on that in a future post). I was driving to work when I prayed, “Okay, God, I know we’re called to Japan. When should I resign from my role at church?”
“Today.”
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