Nothing ever seemed so simple to me as my mother's faith. She loved Jesus, and that was it. Everything she did came from that one desire. She had a passion for following hard after her Savior. My mom was influential, involved, and beloved. I can say that confidently. However, I didn't see her chasing after that type of attention or gratitude. I saw a woman who loved her family, her church body with a fervor I can only aspire to.
She was unbelievably organized, so much so that I remember going with her to friend's houses so that she could help the other mom organize her pantry, or whatever it may have been. She loved helping people with whatever she had, even if it was just an uncanny understanding of order. This came in handy when she worked on numerous VBS camps and in the church nursery.
What amazed me was how much my mom really loved being involved behind the scenes of College Park. She didn't mind the work that came with such a heady task or the time it took to complete it. Cathy was dedicated. Faithful. Her faith defined her, and love was her signature.
My Mama followed God's will, even though it was rarely easy and typically trying in many different ways. In 2002, she was diagnosed with breast cancer, an affliction I wasn't able to comprehend at seven. I may not even understand it now. This is a disease that comes without warning, without a clear weakness, and without compassion. Mama was the bravest woman I have ever known. Cancer is a terrible thing, but she met it with faith. That's it: faith that God had a plan bigger than hers, that Jesus was Emmanuel. I marvel at her strength.
Throughout her treatment, my mom stayed positive. Not to say that there were no "down" days or that she never felt discouraged and lonely. She did. But her overarching attitude was almost always constant, believing that her Jesus had it taken care of. A visitor to our home would have seen "God is Good" scattered in various forms around the house, a reminder of the truth we were all holding on to. She was intentional about keeping God at the center of her struggle, keeping his purpose above her own.
This mantra of "God is good, even though ____" has been a bulwark for me and my family in our lives after my mom's death, and it is not an easy one to commit to. But Cathy was completely convinced that God was greater than her problems. That may sound simple or trite, especially after looking at all she was going through. But we forget that we serve a God who is much bigger than anything we come across. He can handle our disease, worry, displeasure, and even our sin. We can forget His power when our eyes are focused on what is going on in the moment.
In an email written a couple months before she passed away, my mom shared an update on her condition and treatment, describing a painful allergic reaction to a new medication. She closed with this: " God is just the same as he was before all this started. I can trust Him and all His ways." Can you believe that? She was firm, resolute in the way she believed that God was good, even when her circumstances were trying to tell her differently.
A friend of Cathy's, who has herself passed away, wrote, " You have shown me how I can love others, by how you have loved me." Love is so essential for a Christian life, and yet so often faked or forced. We can seriously under-love, to summarize a great many shortcomings. But my mom had a grasp of what Christ' s love was. I saw the effect of her life most tangibly the day of her her funeral.
I knew that Mama was really involved in church and that she knew a lot of people, but it astonished me how many people came to her viewing and funeral. They just kept flowing in the doors, filling the sanctuary with tears and encouragement. They remembered her because she touched their lives in a profound way. Actually, they remembered how she had shown them Jesus, which was more important than any task she had ever completed or pantry she had organized. She loved them with a pure, Christlike love.
I was young--only nine years old-- when my mother passed away, so the memories I have of her are few and foggy. But I know her character. Even more than that, I know what others say about her. They say that she was kind and empathetic and loyal and loving. I hear, even now, after nine years, memories of Mama, the little things that people have carried with them. I've found out some pretty cool stories, and yet I know that I will never hear them all. I love those stories, because they serve as a constant testimony to the way God used my mom to impact others. It is amazing how many people remember this woman, a normal, average person. But it is even more amazing how God used her to love others.
My mom, Cathy, was an especially wonderful person. She was forgiving and vigilant in prayer, and she could even cook. I love her very much. But she was not wonderful because of something she had ever done or ever could do. Mama was special because she trusted in her Savior, day by day. She gave Him control of her life and let Him do the driving. She had her faults, and even her own fears. Cathy was not some kind of superhero, but she had faith. Loving God even when the conditions are trying is hardly easy, but she made it simple. Cathy Perdue just loved Jesus, and that was how she defined her life and her death.
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