The Rock That Is Higher: Story as Truth

by Madeleine L'Engle

Any mortification that does not quicken us to new life in the Lord is not true mortification.

And mortification includes joy. In The Summer of the Great-Grandmother, at my mother’s death at ninety, in her grandson’s arms, I grieved deeply because she was a remarkable mother and I loved her, and I was also full of joy because her life had been full and rich, and we had been able to keep her at home to die, surrounded by those she loved. There were many, many cousins to phone. Some of them shared the joy and grief. A few were appalled that I sounded joyful. “How can you?” they asked. I replied, “She was ninety and it was time. There was nothing ahead for her but further sliding downhill. I am grateful beyond words to God for taking her.” And that gratitude and grief and joy mortified me, got me out of the way.

I give you my Word, God said, and I believe it. That is what enables me to cry out, in the darkness as well as in the light, He is risen indeed!