Greetings and Happy Sabbath from Ubon Ratchathani, Thailand.
I am sorry that I am not here to visit with you on this occasion. However, I am glad that each of you are here to celebrate the life of Sara Margaret Davis Heald, my mother and my prayer warrior.
Often it is said that we the living do not tell our loved ones our feelings, but once someone dies, everything meaningful gets said at the memorial service or at the funeral. About two weeks ago, I wrote mom a brief letter, thanking her for her love, her prayers, her support, and the assorted baked goods she made throughout the years. In fourth grade it was Boston brown bread for lunch. She baked a lot of birthday cakes for us, as well as for others. Then there was the tradition of making and selling creamed candy every year for Christmas. That was a labor of love.
Perhaps her greatest legacy to my sisters and I was the Christian faith we grew into as we grew up. Though we each went our separate paths, mom still loved us, continued praying for us, and supported our decisions on where we would worship. I am sure that in a way Mom was disappointed that she didn't get a son who became a Baptist preacher, but she did get a Seventh-day Adventist missionary out of it. On November 3, 1990, mom was in the Ashland Seventh-day Adventist church, standing with me as Pastor Randy Brehms baptized me into the fellowship of the church. These were the first steps of what I often consider to be a long, strange journey, an adventure that has taken me through parts of the US I never thought I would get to see, and ultimately to Asia, where I have been honored by my heavenly Father to preach in two countries.
While in Texas, I felt impressed to return to Ashland, and it was a difficult decision to make. In June 2001, after nearly ten years living there, I returned. In 2005 I learned of the missionary teacher position in Korea and applied for it. Over the next few months I learned why I was meant to return home. I was called back to say goodbye to Mom and everyone else I knew. The last time I saw Mom alive it was at the Tri-State Airport. Steve Sweeney, one of the members of the Ashland church, picked mom and me up early Sunday morning and drove us to the airport, and together we sat in the departure lounge waiting for my flight. We talked a little bit, then they opened the gate, we hugged, and I got on the plane. I knew I would not see mom again in this world. As the plane gained altitude, I spoke to God, saying, "I trust You, I trust You, I trust you." And God has blessed me in a variety of ways while living here in Asia.
I have been asked about returning to the US, especially during this time. All I can say is that I know Mom understood the call to serve as a missionary, and I believe that she would want me continuing on in God's service here where I am. As a Christian, I must follow the example of Jesus Christ, who said, "I must be about my Father's business." To return would be an act of disrespect to my mother's legacy of faith to me.
Today has been rough on me, as I have thought about Brandon Mullins, my nephew who was killed a couple of days ago in Afghanistan. I know that Cathy and Tom have been had a rough year, and it is difficult to know what to say. I know that their faith in God gets tested, and they are stronger for the trials. "Be strong and of good courage" was the advice of Joshua, and it not always easy to take this advice. However, it will help build the character we need to live in these days of evil. I have the assurance that these days will end, and am comforted that they will end in God's time. God knows what He is doing, and I trust Him I trust Him I trust Him. Soon enough death and hell will be cast into the lake of fire. I take comfort in this promise, and so my tears fall in peace.
Until He appears, my prayer is "surely come quickly, Lord Jesus."
If I never see any of you again in this world, please be at peace. I will look for you in heaven. Please do not let my search for you be in vain. Surely come quickly to Lord Jesus.
In Jesus' name...
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