Altar Call

I've been a Christian for a long time and a Baptist even longer. Therefore, I have been present at a LOT of altar calls. I guess you all know what those are...the time when the preacher, at the end of the service, calls for anyone who would like to make a public profession of faith to come forward (people also go down to just kneel at the altar and pray, or ask the preacher questions, or join the church...). Basically, they all end with, "If the Lord's leading, won't you come today."

I think it may be a requirement in the Baptist church to do this after every meeting. Jeremiah's grandfather was a Baptist preacher, and they even did it at his funeral! While I think that they are a good idea, there have definitely been revivals or seminars I've attended where I felt like the speaker basically guilted half the congregation to come forward :). I say all that to tell you, that oftentimes the preacher will ask anyone who has made a decision to pray with him, and then he'll proceed to pray a prayer that ends with you being a believer. I pray that prayer EVERY time. Then they usually ask you to raise your hand or come forward if you prayed it, and I never do. You see, while I've had the Holy Spirit living in me for 17 years or so, I felt like it never hurt to ask Him to come in one more time. When somebody starts saying, "If you have ANY doubt that if you died driving home from here tonight, you would find yourself in the presence of the Lord, then you need to pray this prayer with me right now."

That's some pressure, isn't it? ANY DOUBT...ANY. Well, I am here to confess that I sometimes have felt doubt. Can this all really be real? Doesn't it sound a little too good to be true, that the King of the Universe died a gruesome death, just so that I could spend eternity with him? I love magic and mystery, but I spend so much time telling myself that the books I read aren't real, so could the Bible just be another elaborate story? These questions have never plagued me, but I have thought them. Therefore, when that preacher has said ANY DOUBT, I have always been ready to add a little more security to my promise.

Then, Mom. I always thought that if God chose to take Mom, I would really start to struggle with those questions that have always wanted to creep into my heart. If one of my rocks of faith was wrong, what would happen to my own faith? I am here to proclaim to you that the exact opposite of what I believed would happen, has happened. Our God is beautiful and mysterious, we can never understand His ways, but He is also all-knowing. I believe that if he had healed Mom, miraculously, like I so desperately begged Him to do, then I would have had a quick fix. An adrenaline rush that probably would have lasted for a year or so, followed by a truly awesome story to share with others for the rest of my life. Now, those who saw the miracle first-hand would have hopefully believed, but do you think that every person I shared her story with on the street would have believed? To believe in a God who does miracles, you must first BELIEVE in God. My testimony could never be as convincing as the argument He's already made for himself in His word.

So, that was the hypothetical, but what's the reality? The reality is that I sat in a church service last week, and I heard the guilt trip shpill at the end, and for the first time my heart didn't quaver. A smile came across my face, and I thanked Jesus that I didn't have to wonder any more. He has carried me through a raging fire, but He showed me how to tuck my face into the hollow of his neck, to shield me til we reached the other side. He's put my feet back on the ground, but he's still holding both of my hands and coaxing me forward. He's become so real in my every-day, that I don't have to be immersed in His word or prayer to feel His presence. He is real. He is dwelling within me. He has shown himself to be enough no matter how hot the fire. And now I can smile through those altar calls.

Jesus Gift

When someone that you love desperately is stripped from your life, aren't you supposed to be left with only the sweet memories? I feel like this is what "they" say happens...I know that for me this has not been the case, and I didn't really realize it until I received a surprise gift from Jesus.

My Mom was a wonderful, beautiful, gifted woman of God, BUT she (like all of us) had her flaws. Like the way she loved food. I can remember being little and getting all "A's" on my report card. The reward for this feat was being allowed to pick what restaurant the family would go out to for a celebration. I can still see Mom putting on her make-up in front of the bathroom mirror and convincing me that what I REALLY wanted was Red Lobster--just think about those buttery cheese biscuits, she said--and I should run downstairs quick and tell Dad before I changed my mind. There weren't a whole lot of restaurants to choose from in Dothan at that time, and I think she was worried I would pick Taco Bell. You'd think this little manipulation would have gotten better with age, but she only got more particular. She spent a lot of time in Birmingham between doctor's check-ups and treatments, and she NEVER left without a sumptuous meal. She might tell me that, "Oh, she didn't care what we ate. Your pregnant Abby, why don't you pick." But as I listed one restaurant after another, that cute little nose of hers would squinch up in utter disdain until I named the place she'd been wanting all along. Never mind that it was the FishMarket and the THOUGHT (much less the smell) of fish at 12 weeks pregnant sent me running for the nearest restroom, it was what she wanted.

Or, more seriously, there were the little jabs she could throw in, under the guise of helping me. There were few times she walked into our house, without a comment like, "Abby, we really need to clean out these closets" or "I don't know how you can stand to leave those clean clothes piled up without folding them" or "Are you sure you can thaw chicken out in warm water like that?" or "You aren't really going to spank her for that, are you?"

So, unbeknownst to my conscious self, I was fighting off the pain of not having her, by focusing on the things she did that made me mad. I would feel a jabbing pain at the fear of Pace not remembering her Bebe, but a vision of that disdainfully squinched nose would pop into my head. Or I would ache to talk to her after a disagreement with Jeremiah, and those guilty feelings she used to impose would creep into my heart. In essence, I was losing who she was 99% of the time to the ugliness she displayed 1% of the time, in an effort to cope.

So, on my last night in Dothan, I was foraging through a stack of notes on the kitchen counter. Suddenly, I see what looks like my name scribbled across the top of a sheet of paper in Mom's handwriting, and I catch my breath. When I realized that it wasn't really my name, and instead it was Alz. (I want you to realize here that Mom's faith was so strong that some of the last notes she made were how to prevent Alzheimers :) Here she was distended with cancer but worried about getting Alz. when she was 80), I was overcome with grief. I realized that I didn't have anything that I could think of where I had my name written in her handwriting.

I tucked the notes away, thankful for the little scraps with her handwriting and everyday notes like, "Roast started 5:33." Then I headed back to my room to continue the mountain of packing. This is where Jesus jumped in. Besides the fact that He led me, there was no reason for me to walk over to the little tin bucket, tucked away under my nightstand, filled with random books from high school. I started flipping through the titles, and had laid aside a little notebook that I didn't recognize, when I thought I might better check and just make sure there was nothing written in it. As it fell open in my lap, all I registered was my name peppered across the pages in the handwriting that I'd longed for.

I flipped back to the first page and realized that it was a journal that Mom started in January 2000. I wept...hard as my heart was kindled by the joy of remembering her day-to-day. The errands she ran, movies she watched, chores she'd finished, and meals she'd planned. However, the true gift was even greater than these everyday reminders. That journal had begun as a record of her "mundane," but it became an in-depth record of the sweet beginning of mine and Jeremiah's relationship. As I cried and cherished every word, God reminded me who my mom really was. A best friend, who loved me so much that she took the time to chronicle every hand-hold, phone conversation, and kiss between me and my new boyfriend. A mom who didn't tell me, but instead wrote down, how she and Dad knelt and prayed for us after we walked out the door to go on a date. A mom who listened to her excited 17 year-old daughter so closely that she could even recall in her journal that night the way I'd said Jeremiah put his hands in his pockets while he talked. As the love and memories welled in my heart, the realization of the bitterness I was creating was forced to the surface.

Jesus led me from a place where I was clinging to a scrap of paper with Alz.--that sorta kinda looked like my name in Mom's handwriting-- to a place where I held a journal filled with not only my name, but her recollections on how THE love in my life began. She might have been overly opinionated about things that didn't matter. She might have made me feel like my house wasn't clean enough. But more than that, she loved me and celebrated my life fiercely, and I am thankful that Jesus gave me a tangible reminder of that.

Would You Do It if We Were Dating?

That question has plagued the recesses of my mind since Jeremiah and I have been married. Would you do it if we were dating? I'm not sure what happened to make me fear that I would change after we got married. My Dad never complained about this issue with my Mom, or vice versa. I think it must stem back to all the talks my Dad had with me when Jeremiah and I were engaged. "You know, Abby, you are much more of a type-A personality, and Jeremiah is more 'Don't worry be happy.' Neither of you are too far in either direction, and I think you will compliment each other well. BUT, just be careful, because a lot of times in marriage, there is a tendency for Mr. Don't Worry Be Happy to drive Mrs. Type-A to be more type-A. It can turn into a vicious cycle."

In my mind, while I do freely admit to the type-A tendencies, I also love spontaneity. When Jeremiah would drive me home from dates, I used to say, "Instead of you driving me home, just take a right right here and let's drive to the beach!" And one night, we did :) I was very nervous on horses when we first started dating, but I pushed through and made myself do it because I wanted to be with him. I even nearly killed myself snow-skiing in -20 degree weather because I wanted to seem brave. So, I listened to Dad's warning, but in my mind could never have imagined losing what, I hoped, was the fun side of myself that Jeremiah helped to bring to the surface.

Enter the Pine Lake Motel...What you see at the top of this blog is a picture of the hotel (actually I think MOtel would be a more proper term) that we stayed in last night. If you've ever made the trek from Montgomery to Dothan then I'm sure you've noticed it. While dating, Jeremiah and I must have made that trip 10,000 times and each time we'd laughingly comment about wishing we could stay there. What I just learned yesterday, was that our reasons for wanting to stay there varied greatly. In my mind: That's one of the creepiest hotels I've ever seen. People definitely die there. But, if I were allowed to stay in a HOTEL with you, I would even be willing to stay there. In Jeremiah's mind: That looks like a family operated motel, that's pretty dumpy, but they really take pride in it and try to make it nice. Wouldn't it be fun if we were allowed to stay in a hotel.

So yesterday, when we were discussing the logistics of how to transport 2 children, who HATE to ride in the car, from Birmingham to Montgomery so that we could meet his parents and pick up my car (my sister had a wreck in my car while I was home and it just got finished being fixed), Jeremiah suggested breaking up the trip by spending the night at the Pine Lake-like we've always dreamed! Oh horror...that nagging question crept into the back of my mind as I heard myself telling him that, "No, I do not want to stay at that scary motel with our two small children. Not to mention the packing, the money,..." I stopped, as I remembered myself at 20, longing to be able to stay, even in the Pine Lake, if I could stay with him. I conceded.

It turns out that the Pine Lake isn't nearly as frightening on close inspection as its dingy neon sign would have you to believe from the road. I'm not saying that I ever took my socks off when I walked around, or that I didn't refuse to cover myself with the comforter (that I hear hotels never wash), or that the bathroom wasn't straight out of 1975, but I went and we laughed about it and it really was fun (and much cleaner than I expected). The night man didn't look anything like Norman Bates, and Pace told us this morning that she didn't want to go back to Birmingham, she wanted to STAY at the Pine Lake.

(Good thing they put a lovely, white, plastic chair outside of each room! I know that I woke up this morning yearning to sit there, coffee in hand, and admire the parking lot and Hwy 231.)

Joy Bringers

A few minutes ago I was cooing at Mary Aplin, and wishing I had a magic genie to bring me a fresh cup of steaming tea and a buttery scone. The joy that came over me at the thought of curling up, unencumbered with a book and those two items, started me to thinking about other things that bring me joy. I hope that most of you know my heart, and things like Jesus and family are my two biggest joy givers, but I started thinking about the "worldly" things that bring happiness to my heart. I am just going to list the first 10 that come to my mind. I can't bear to say they are the TOP ten, because that would mean I'd have to list them all out and try to rank them--too much work. SO, here are the FIRST 10:

1) A cup of tea, a scone, and some book discussion. I love any type of eating and book discussion, but there is something distinctly British and lovely about the tea and scone combination. I am fortunate enough to have a dear friend and neighbor who makes an excellent scone and also happens to enjoy the same type of books that I do. Yesterday morning she invited Ashley (Johnson) and I over to rekindle our tea and scone meetings after my prolonged absence. There was nothing really relaxing about our time with the 4 little girls trying to juggle their Mommy's nice china, the crumbly scones, the enticing fun of adding more and more and more cream to their tea, and the blustering winds of yesterday. However, I looked across the table at Lauren and we both smiled. I said,"We may not be discussing a beautiful novel, but I bet one day soon we're going to miss these crazy tea parties with little girls."

2) The Beach. I could write all day long about the joys of the beach. From the sand, to the breeze, to the sun, to the fun restaurants, to the calm tired that comes after a day in the sun...but you all know those things well enough yourself.

3) Getting all dressed up for dinner. Whenever Jeremiah and I get a "money present", this is usually what we choose to spend it on. I love the anticipation that comes after making a reservation at a nice restaurant. I love to labor over what I'm going to wear (which usually means raiding Ashley's closet for something new and exciting :)) and what kind of eye makeup to add to change my every-day look. I love giving our name to the maitre de, and having Jeremiah put his hand on the small of my back as we are lead to our table. I love to read every item on the menu and think about the chef in the back who has been trained to know that spices and foods I've never even heard of can be combined to bring out new flavors. I love the low lighting and the quiet conversation and knowing that there WILL be dessert, because it's our night and we're splurging. I just love it.

4) Feeling connected to a writer. When I am reading a book and suddenly come across a thought or feeling, typed in bold print, that I thought was something isolated within myself, I get giddy.

5) Going to the movie. If Jeremiah and I get a "money present" that isn't enough to send us out to dinner, we invariably will use it to go to a movie. Holding hands in line, feeling like we are out on a real date, the smell (and TASTE) of buttered popcorn, the dark theatre, the surround sound, the excitement of the plot... We cherish the whole movie experience. Now that we have wee-uns, our movie-going has dwindled substantially. We have had to substitute renting for the real deal, and we miss it.

6) A cold night and a good book in front of a fire. Last Christmas, we received a fuzzy green throw blanket that I keep waiting for me on the back of our couch. Fortunately, I have a husband who builds a fire every night he is home and the temperature drops below 70. So, once Pace and Mary Aplin are nestled quietly in bed, I usually can savor at least a few moments in this joy-bringing activity.

7) A smiling, cooing baby. If that doesn't make you smile, then you may want to ask Pace what the grinch did with your heart!

8) A Jesus moment. I said this was going to be a worldly list, but I can't bear to leave this one out. Nothing brings more joy than getting in the word, or hearing a sermon, or having a friend share something that you know was a gift sent to you straight from Jesus. I had one of these moments a few nights ago, and that is what I was planning to blog today. Hopefully I'll get the time to share it with you soon.

9) An antique book store. To look around and feel blissfully overwhelmed by the vast amount of books that are still waiting to be read. To think of all the previous owners who've poured over their pages. To smell leather and staleness, waiting to be made new again. It makes my heart beat fast.

10) Writing. And writing with the anticipation of it being read. I've never been a performer. The thought of a stage and crowds of people makes me sick to my stomach, but I will admit to you that there is something invigorating about writing and wondering if any of you will feel a connection with me like I have felt with so many others. I enjoy writing period, and I would write even if my eyes were the only ones to ever read the words. However, I thank you for adding something extra to the joy of writing, and that is the joy of being read.

Book Update

Several of you have sent emails asking what the "heaven" book I mentioned in the last posting is. So, I thought it might be time to go ahead and do another book update. With all that's been happening, my reading has slowed substantially, but it still hasn't come to a halt. Two of the books on this list I haven't actually finished reading, but here we go:

Freckles by Gene Stratton Porter: This was my selection for our book club. It is a kid's book, really, but it is wonderful. I actually retold the entire book to Mom on our last trip to the beach... It's the story of a little Irish orphan boy, filled with valor, a hard work ethic, and love for his "Swamp Angel." The book opens as he is running away from his first job out of the orphanage. He was abused because the plantation owner who hired him didn't know that he was missing an arm. The rest of the story is about how he overcomes his disability, finds "family," falls in love with an unobtainable beauty, and earns the respect of all he meets. It is very touching and has a surprise ending. Porter was also an avid nature lover and this colors the entire novel.

Middlemarch by George Eliot: This is one of the books that I haven't actually finished. I bought an antique copy, and it actually came with two of Eliot's books in one. For this reason, it is HUGE, and I had people at the doctor's office ask me if it was an antique Bible I was reading :) Perhaps it's the daunting size, or maybe the problem is that I watched my BBC movie and ruined all the surprises, but I have had a hard time getting into it. I have never started a book and not finished it, so I will get around to it eventually, but right now I've been too pre-occupied to read a book that isn't going to drag me along with it.

A Room with a View by E.M. Forster: Florence in springtime, English countryside, charming little community...this book has a great back-drop. The story, however, is a little on the strange side. This books shows the difference between loving someone from your mind and loving someone from your heart. Unfortunately, my heart never did fall in love with the "hero" of this novel...He was just a little flighty. I would recommend the movie over the book in this case, which is something I rarely would say.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier: I LOVE THIS BOOK! My love for reading started as a young girl reading my Mom's old Nancy Drew books. Perhaps that's why there has always been a special place in my heart for the mystery...the twist. This book has all the elements I love: rags to riches love story, English estates, old-world setting, and SUSPENSE. The creepy house matron, Ms. Danvers, is sure to make an ever-lasting impression on your psyche, and there are twists that will make you gasp out loud. I should probably clarify that this is just a Gothic novel and not Stephen King or anything like that. If you've read Jane Eyre, you will see some definite parallels. Rebecca was my favorite book in high school, and re-reading it as a wife was even better.

The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger: First of all, can you tell me how I am supposed to pronounce that author's last name :) There was a very nice black man at Books-a-Million who looked up this book title for me so that I could locate the book by the author's last name. I asked him to repeat it three times, turning more red with each re-pronunciation, until he finally laughed and said, "That girl was one letter off from being really wrong."

I decided to forgo our book club selection of the month because I read the first page and it sounded depressing. I decided there was enough in my life bringing sadness, and I just wanted an easy-to-read page turner to take me into some other fascinating world. I remembered this unusual title being mentioned by one of our book club members, so I decided to give it a go. It was a page-turner, the story line was very clever and must have taken a LOT of planning for the author. I have just still yet to find a book written in the last 15 years, about present-day society, that I would place on a level playing field with the old stuff. This, like most other new stuff I've read, seems to need to use crude language, or sex, or some convention like time traveling, to keep the reader's attention. Something about that just seems plastic to me.

Saying all that, I couldn't put this book down. It may have seemed a little plastic and a little raunchy at times, but the plot was intriguing. Unfortunately, I ran from a book that I thought had a depressing tone, straight into this book where a mother dies of cancer and other death that I hate to give away.

Heaven by Randy Alcorn: I haven't finished this one yet either, but it is fascinating. There is so much that I never knew! Alcorn does a good job of showing different opinions, and then stating his own. Everything (at least so far) has been based on Scripture. Did you know that the heaven that exists now is not the same heaven that we will live in for eternity? Did you know that the verse everyone quotes about there being no more tears or sorrow in heaven is referring to the New Jerusalem, not the intermediate heaven that exists now? Alcorn believes that the Saints (those in heaven now) can see those of us on earth, and they even pray for us. I won't give any more away, but I would highly recommend this book.

Where to Now?

Last night I dreamed Mom came back. We said we were going to believe with her until her last breath, and even then we would believe God could raise her from the dead like Lazarus if He wanted. I guess that's why last night I dreamed she was suddenly just hanging out in the house. She was wearing her white beach cover-up, blond hair, smiling, holding Pace and rallying us all to go to the pool and lay out with her. We were all looking at each other like, "Is she serious?" and I asked her if she was sure the sun wouldn't zap her energy too much. We were talking in whispers, not wanting to freak her out because she obviously didn't know that we'd been to her graveside a few days before. I even remember pulling Dad into the garage and asking him if it was really OK to let her lay out. He said, "If that's what she wants, but take her by the doctor first and get her kidneys checked." :) Pretty vivid, huh.

Dreams aside, I realized yesterday that I really do think about her constantly. I woke up, made the bed, walked downstairs, and had part of a conversation before I was jolted by the realization that I hadn't re-remembered that Mom is gone for that 10 minute span. It isn't like I walk around heavy with memories, but everything is tinged by her or the lack thereof. How then am I not depressed? How have I lost my mom, my best friend, my #1 fan (as she proudly named herself), my confidante and not thrown myself into a dark room and locked the door as I would have imagined? The only answers I have been able to come up with are God and your prayers. We all have dark moments... I actually told my aunt at our family Christmas that I just didn't have it in me to smile at everybody...but the moments pass. I tell myself that she's finally WITH Jesus and no memory we could create for her here can compare with the ecstasy of where she is now.

We are all reading a book on heaven, and I think that's helping me too. I've always been big on wanting to SEE where people are so that I can "see" them when I think about them. Is that crazy? I'm pretty sure Jeremiah thinks it is. I had a breakdown a couple of years ago when he told me A) It would be inappropriate for me to be-bop up to the ER so that I could accurately imagine where he was 90% of our life (and watching him do a surgery was even more out of the question) and B) He didn't feel the need to make the hour-long drive out to my work in Wilsonville so that he could "see" what I do (he did drive out there anyway though :)). Anyway, being able to accurately imagine the surroundings of those I care about has always been big to me, and this book is helping me to do that. It's one thing to say she's happy, it's another thing to imagine what she's really DOING up there.

There is one other problem that we all seem to be having and that is being around groups of people again. We don't sit around in the house and mope or anything like that, but there is something hard about seeing people laughing and being "normal" when nothing about our existence is normal anymore. It may not be bad, but it certainly is different...and will never be the same again. I have found myself feeling distant and alone when I am surrounded by people. However, I went to dinner at a friends house tonight and it hardly bothered me at all. I am just praying it will keep getting better.

This is hard to admit, but there is also a kind of relief in my heart. Taylor really hit it when she said that she doesn't know what to do with herself now that there is no worry in the back of her mind. There's been 13 years that we've all been unable to be completely without the fear that God may NOT chose to heal Mom. Now that what we always thought to be the worst has happened, and we've seen that God still more than sustains us, that fear is no more. Even though it makes me feel a little guilty, there is relief in that.

Finally, I want to say that I have been overwhelmed by the posts on this blog. Your love and prayers are so GENUINE and we feel it. OH, how we feel it! The thought that there are "Anonymous" friends out there who have been moved by Mom's life fills my insides with overflowing hope. It helps me to see how much bigger God's plan is than my own.

FROM Glory TO Glory

The picture you are looking at is the last physical vision my Mom had on this earth. A host of people flooding our front yard (and down a side street that you can't see), holding candles, singing carols, and praying for her. After smiling and waving down to these friends, she walked to her bed, laid down, closed her eyes and slipped into another state of consciousness. The next vision she saw was heaven. Mom was permanently healed yesterday morning around 5:45. I was praying and believing that I would be writing on this blog to report an earthly healing to you all. However, that was not God's plan. All I know to say is that we misunderstood, because I know that God is not a man that He could lie (Numbers 23:19).

I have been through many stages over the past weeks. Extreme hope, blindingly painful sadness, numbness, joy, and dream walking. However, yesterday morning I was consumed with an all-encompassing peace. I crept up into Mom and Dad's room around 4:30 yesterday morning (after feeding Mary Aplin). I watched Mom's strained breathing and held Dad's hand for about 30 minutes. Then, I kissed her cheek and whispered, "I love you so bad" (a term that Pace has coined) into her ear. I went downstairs and spent another half hour weeping bitterly to Jeremiah about all of the "last times", and then God wrapped me in peace. We had both been lying there quietly for about 5 minutes when Dad walked in and said, "Your Mom's gone on to glory."

The next hour seems like a dream now, but at the time it was the first moment I had felt real in a long time. I believe God brought that peace to me at the same time he was wrapping her into His arms. I held her hand, because I wanted to feel warmth from her one last time, and we sang "Our God is an Awesome God," because He is. We prayed, and we read from her favorite devotional "Streams in the Desert." It was a message delivered directly to us (if you have it, then check out Dec. 19th). Dr. Edwin came to pronounce her and he prayed with us as well. He shared several words with us, but one thing that really stuck out was him saying that God did not take her until ALL of us were ready. I had really struggled with that issue. Why, if He was going to take her home, had he tarried and left her in pain? I had thought a lot about the cross--the fact that he had allowed his own son to suffer so why did I expect my Mom to be treated differently. I had thought about Him helping me to realize just what suffering was, and what my sins had cost. I had not, however, thought of her suffering as an act of mercy for me. He slowly brought us all to a place where we wanted her to go. Unless He was going to heal her to wholeness instantly, we didn't want her to stay here any longer. For me, I don't think I got there until the moment she left.

So, as we sat there on her bed I looked at my husband, my Dad, my sisters, and I could fill my lungs with cool air and feel real again. The waiting was over. God had finally answered our question, and even though the answer wasn't what we expected, it is the best. I tentatively admitted my supernatural sense of peace to the group. Afraid it might seem callous. But everyone's faces lit up and they admitted feeling the same way. I know there are still going to be hard days. There have already been moments that made me painfully catch my breath...but they are just moments. My overall sense is peace, and I know it is from Him. I can't imagine a better send-off from this life than the one He gave her. And if that's how she left earth, I can only imagine the glory she was welcomed in to.