A Lifetime of Kingdom

"You have to decide what kingdom it is you belong to, what kingdom you serve."

It appeared like a flash of red out of the corner of my eye and then it was gone.

It belonged though for I can still see it when I close my eyes bounding over the gravel road dust kicking up from behind its trail as it made its way around the winding driveway of days ago. It was easy to spot at the local groceries, on the main street, and around town, this red and when I saw it, I knew it was hers.

And now it was here. 

A quick flash of red. It couldn't be but yes, it was. For that red I couldn't mistake nor the silhouette of the driver. 

It slipped the words from my mouth, "Mom's here?" To which my oldest replied in repeated excited tones of Grandma's here and where was she. I quickly cleaned and stashed so she could walk through the door.

And she did and she stayed.

The boys would plop on her lap or sit by her side listening to the stories she would read or the shows she would play, drawn to the way her presence beckoned love and gentleness. 

A Grandmothers heart grows and twines itself in their hearts and it brings a certain safeness, love, and protection that they feel and understand.

Every evening before bed there were questions of the mornings light and if she would be there. 

She was and there was no rush. 

And she spoke of Kingdom and Psalms, of pasts and wrongs, of life and love, of motherhood and family, of choices.

We picked from the treats.

We picked from the treats and it reminded me of being a little girl and the way she would try to make the days special, the outings a surprise, the simple things exciting for most of our life growing up she was poor but she made it seem rich for we were young, happy, and carefree.  

We had no clue. 

She made the days rain with joy even though hers were shadowed with clouds but it didn't show, for we were her sunshine and we grew up knowing we were loved, believing we had much, our shoulders were never heavy with pressures or stresses or expectations we lived freely. She carried it.

And the days slip fast, they flee, from pigtails and braids to school days and drivers licenses and we forget, and we grow up and it becomes Me and we forget the Her in us. 

Somehow with the world backing me, chanting its untruths changed the way I see her and I begin to doubt, the doubt of a daughter of a Mom's way, heart and soul. 

Life was hard and it tested and tried her but she did the best she could with what she had and the life she was given.

And then I flip, flip through pages with finger and mind and I try, try to see her life as a little girl, a young mother, and now older and I remember, forget and am thrusted back in to the world of Mom and of how little I know and remember and time does not stop, its days know no halts.

A lifetime.

I hear her, I don't see, I cry, I remember, I laugh and it takes a lifetime a lifetime of sits, and talks, and holded hands, memories, deep looks, to know, to fully know it takes a lifetime.

I can never assume to know for I do not.

Whatever time it is how much or little, nothing absolutely nothing that has crossed paths, disappointments, mishaps could or will stop this lifetime of honor and knowing.

With her she brought her words of Kingdom and how we choose, choose the kingdom that we will serve a lifetime. This worlds with its fleshly cravings of mine and more or His Kingdom of peaceful love and grace filled days.

I choose the peaceful, grace filled days and when I think about what those days could be like I think back upon those little girl days of happiness that she made from nothing but her presence.

It reminds me of a childlike wishful dream of a white mane blowing in the wind, of hooves pounding the grass filled hills as it races, its neck twisting in unbridled freedom as it rears its front legs because there it was free and the dream was lived.  

She is gone but I can still see her as she goes about because I know and I always will and I always love her. 

A lifetime.