Tomorrow marks three years ago that my mom took her first breath in heaven. I’ve imagined a thousand times the welcome home she received, and I smile every time.

The last few photos I’d received of her before her passing showed her propped up in her recently delivered hospital bed, a tumbler full of water on her nightstand, and a cat and her three-year-old granddaughter keeping her company. Her one and only chemo treatment for an aggressive lung cancer had caused her to lose her hair. Her frail frame was covered in cozy quilts, and lamps illuminated the room.

Hospice was soon to be contacted, and I had plans to fly out the next week for a visit. My sister-in-law and brother had done a beautiful job of caring for her in their home. My sister-in-law was working from home at the time, and she was diligent to check on Mom multiple times throughout the day. Mom had recently had several falls, and the latest one had resulted in an ER visit and bumps and bruises on her bald head. Every day became just a little harder for Mom. Weakness, struggling to breathe, no appetite.

And then came the fear. My sister-in-law asked if I would give Mom a call, and I did.

Mom knew about Jesus. She knew Bible stories. She knew about heaven. But for most of her 78 years, her life had been full of broken relationships, mistakes, and hurts. People who should’ve protected and cared for her had instead wounded her, and she had responded with the wild fear of a caged animal. Now, here she was, and she couldn’t imagine that Jesus’ forgiveness and grace that she had read about and heard about could be for her. She was scared that death would be an eternity separated from Him. Heaven must surely be too good to be true for someone like her.

So we talked about it. Her voice quivered as she lamented the things she’d done and voiced her fear that it was too late to turn to Jesus. So I read to her Ephesians 2:8-9: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast.” I assured her that the things of this life that were dishonoring to God would be covered by the righteousness of Christ if she would only believe that He loved her - the only thing she would have to “do.”

Then I read Romans 10:9-10: “…If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved.” I asked her if she wanted Jesus to be her Lord and if she believed that God had resurrected Him and that He was alive in heaven. Her weary voice answered, “Yes, I do.” Tears welled up and overflowed from my eyes as I said to her, “Then, Mom, the Bible says you’re saved. You don’t have to be afraid of dying. When the time comes and God is ready for you, He’ll send His angels to carry you to heaven. And you won’t have to struggle for every breath. You can take a big, deep breath of heaven’s air, and it will be beautiful. Jesus will be waiting for you, and everything will be okay.”

She sighed, and in a voice filled with relief and rest, she said, “I’m looking forward to that.”

I asked her if she was still afraid, and she said, “No.” And I believed her. I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me, too. We ended our call, and I cried like a baby. I texted my sister-in-law to let her know that Mom and I had talked and that she was at peace. My sister-in-law assured me that she’d check on Mom at her next break in her work. A few hours later, she called to say, “She’s gone.” And I knew exactly where she was.

For all of the hurt and neglect and disappointments of this life, she was now experiencing the pure love, welcome, and cherishing of Jesus! She was breathing in the air of heaven, and she was healed. She was absent from her frail, sick body and present with her Lord. As surprised as I was that she had left this life so soon after our conversation, I was thrilled that her suffering was over and that there would be “no more death or mourning or crying or pain” (Revelation 21:4) for her.

Why do I tell this story? First and foremost, I want you to never, never, never give up hope that God will save your loved one. He saved my mom on the very last day of her life, and only He knew that would be her last day. I had prayed for the ideal time to talk with Mom about Jesus for years, more frantically than ever at the end. And when the time came, her heart was open, and His words came pouring out of my mouth. It was all the Lord, and I give Him full glory and credit.

Second, I write this as a confession. My mom and I had a rough go of it for most of my life. Some of her personal decisions left some pretty hefty collateral damage, and I was hurt and bitter for too many years. Things I’d done to self-protect wounded my mom in ways I’m ashamed to recall. But a week before she passed away, we were on the phone and had the most beautiful reconciliation I could have ever imagined.

And then I got to lead her to Jesus. God just doesn’t get any better than that.

 So I encourage you to extend the olive branch – sooner rather than later. You just might be surprised at how the Lord works that out for you. And trust Him. Where there’s still breath, there’s hope.