Virginia. They got married that morning and then announced the marriage to her mother later that day. Needless to say, the
relationship between my grandmother and my father was, from that point on, was strained.
My mother gave birth to my brother Tom in 1957, and I came along in 1959. Mom was now a full-fledged sailor's wife. Our family moved whenever my dad received new orders or a new ship assignment. Mom embraced the adventure. She even traveled with my brother to Naples, Italy, where she loved the Italian food, the people, and the history. She visited the archaeological ruins at Pompeii.
But our family's life was not easy. At 24 years old, Mom survived cervical cancer. My father's growing addiction to alcohol brought tremendous difficulty into their marriage and into our home. Then, in 1965, something happened that changed the trajectory of all our lives.
A man told my father about Jesus and invited him to place his faith and trust in Christ as his Savior. My dad rejected the thought. But months later, as the marriage continued to struggle, a crisis moment came. My father placed his trust in Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. By God's grace, my father was delivered from alcohol's control. The change was clear to all of us, but especially to my mother. Mom gave her life to Christ as well. In the years that followed, my brother Tom and I did the same.
From that point forward, Harry and Sue Litton loved and supported the churches they served, the ministries in which they were involved, and, most significantly, the people whose lives God brought across their paths.
My mother was a housewife, a farmer. She managed a motel. At one point, she even owned her own business. But that doesn't really tell you who she was.
She was a woman who loved people. The lives she touched stretched from Virginia to Tennessee, from Arizona, to Mobile, Alabama.
I watched her take in a hurting, pregnant woman who had been abandoned at our motel. Mom helped that woman through her pregnancy and stayed with her through the birth of her child.
I watched her love young single adults.
I watched her invest herself in people who needed someone to believe in them. One of the young people she discipled would one day become a justice of the Arizona Supreme Court.
Mom and Dad understood what it meant to be down and out. They loved people regardless of their circumstances. In their later years, when they went to church, they made sure they arrived early enough to do what they called "work the room."
They weren't there simply to find their seat. They were there to find people. They looked for new people and made a point of meeting them, talking to them, and making them feel loved and welcomed.
That was my mother. She cared about people. She cared about their lives.
And most of all, she cared about their souls.
Yesterday, as I was going through her purse, I found a gospel tract. I smiled. Of course I did. Because even at the end of her life, Mom never stopped caring about the souls of other people.
The night mom passed, I went to bed and looked at the clock.
I thought, "Mom has been in heaven for six hours." Six hours for us. But for Mom? Nanoseconds. And I found myself wondering: What did she hear first?
What did she see? What did she think? What was the first moment of heaven like for her?
I know her theology. I know her first priority was her savior.
So, I imagine that when my mother entered heaven, the first person she wanted to see was Jesus.
And I can almost hear Him saying, "Welcome home, Sue." And then perhaps He said,
"There are some people here who really want to see you."
Mom, I am proud to be your son. I love you! Look forward to seeing you again.
Welcome home.
