I’ve been trying to get myself to a point that I can come back to the keyboard and type my inner music into words. No, I’m not a musician and no, I can’t sing the things that flow through my heart. But, my intentions are to bring God glory, and the words from my heart to the keyboard are my praise and worship to my father up in heaven. So, here I am, with arms open ready to give him glory.
I was bed ridden and sick with COVID-19 when I wrote my last blog note. I knew in my heart that if I posted it, something life changing would happen. I could feel it throughout my spirit. I held back a few days, but the presence of assurance and pressure in my heart lead me to upload it. Only God knows why, but just a few days later I watched my father transition his life out of this earth into the ultimate healing and into the arms of our Lord and Savior.
To say it was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life would be an understatement, as I watched the paramedics perform CPR on my father for what seemed like hours. Frozen in time, it was the first time in my life that my heart had absolutely nothing flowing. I wanted to pray, I wanted to plead, I wanted the words “Talitha Koum” to come from my mouth and I wanted the Holy Spirit to work into the heart of my father and be the power the defibrillator wasn’t in that very moment. I saw my best friend clutching onto my Mother as my Husband grabbed onto my cold hand, and empty and emotionless tears rolled down my eyes.
Christmas decorations still filled every nook and cranny of our home, and in the center of it all were scattered face masks, shields, gloves, body covers, portable machines, random wires and the drippings of sweat on the floor from the men who worked so hard to save my fathers’ life. The strongest man I had ever known, who was never sick, never missed a day of work, and was afraid of nothing collapsed from everything to nothing in under 30 minutes.
Still cold and without emotion, I looked back at my moments of silence and was confused at my inability to cry out to God. The prayer warrior in me that could manage to cry out to her Father in heaven for a turtle crossing a busy roadway couldn’t cry out for her father on earth for a miracle when he needed it the most.
I was at the Emergency Room just a few short hours later for my mother, who herself had been battling COVID-19. Since the loss of my Father, her breathing had become more restricted and she too was feeling more lifeless than she had just 8 hours before. They initially wouldn’t let me into her room, but after taking her bloodwork/vitals, they allowed me to walk in and hold her hand. By that point I had not rested in 29 hours, and with my eyes stuck in an open and dreary position, I listened to the doctors speak words that continued to further numb my body.
The head physician on staff read through her vitals, telling us she would remain on the B-PAP machine before having her transferred to the Intensive Care Unit at a larger hospital where they fully expected to transition her over to a ventilator. The doctor said before they moved her, they wanted to make sure it was in her wishes to be placed on one. She looked me in the eyes and told me she didn’t want me to lose her too.
I have to pause for a moment and share the following verse with you for the next part of my story to make sense:
“If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.” 2 Timothy 2:13
I looked into my mother’s eyes and told her she didn’t have to worry about me, that God had my heart and my spirit in the palm of His hands. I let her know that it would be her choice to take the ventilator and that I would love her no matter what the outcome, with or without it. With the little strength she did have, she squeezed my hand and told me she wanted to live. She then looked into the Physicians eyes and told him to do whatever it takes. I signed paperwork as her witness and I gave my mom what in that moment I believed was going to be the last hug I would ever give her alive. As they moved her to the stretcher so she could get into the ambulance, I thanked the doctor for his honesty and that no matter what the outcome, I knew I was leaving her in the best hands.
If you had asked me 1 year ago what would have happened in this very moment of my life, I would have told you that I would have been distraught, broken, screaming, uncontrolled, riddled with sadness, angry and without hope. Yet, because of God’s faithfulness in my faithless body, I was intact, reserved, at peace and hanging on with hope that was shining directly from the Holy Spirit. I wasn’t expecting my Mom to live, but I knew in my heart that I would be ok because my God is faithful. He is my strength when I am weak, my joy when I am sad, my peace when I am angry, and He is the rock to which I stand. And just like that, I had nothing to fear.
I walked through the automatic doors of the emergency room and I fell into my husbands arms and wept. I didn’t cry out of fear or even sadness, I cried at the goodness of my Father in heaven. He told me he would never leave me nor forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:6), but for the first time in my life, I felt the words spoken into my heart since I was a young girl live out right before my eyes. After I got myself together, I gathered hands with my husband, my brothers, my sister-in law, my nieces and my mother-in-law and prayed. Right in front of the hospital, in a connected circle, we left my mother in God’s hands.
Later that evening I called the ICU at the hospital where they took my mother to see how she was coming along. They transferred me to the nurses station and before I could even get my mom’s entire name out, they said with unexpected enthusiasm that she was doing great. They told me the B-Pap machine they had placed her on at the prior hospital, which didn’t seem to be doing the job, was now too much for her lungs. They told me they had placed her on the machine beneath it. They then advised that they had run her blood work to prepare her for a round of dialysis, but that Mom’s kidneys that had been failing just a few hours before were no longer in a place where dialysis would be necessary. I ended the call and sprung out of my bed and began to praise God with everything I had left in me. In that moment I knew that God was going to save my Mom’s life. I wasn’t sure how long it would take, but I knew in my heart He wasn’t done with her yet.
“So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” John 4:16
God didn’t take my Father away from me. He blessed me with 31 earthly years of life with him and transitioned him to the place where my prayers of peace, rest and healing would become a reality. Why did he do this? Because He loves me, and if I ever question His love for me all I need to do is open up His word and allow myself to be quickly reminded like He does in John 4:16. God also chose to give my Mom more time here on earth, and since she was released from the hospital has continued to sustain her with a heart filled with joy even during her darkest of days. We have chosen not to be sad, but to live in joy and happiness in wild memory of my father Jesus. My earthly father Jesus. It’s funny they have the same name.
I’m going to share with you the Obituary I wrote for my Father after he passed away. I never sent it to the funeral home/director because I clearly remember my Dad telling me that if he ever dies, not to allow his obituary to reach the news paper because he doesn’t want his identity stolen and voting democrat while he’s dead.
Oh, my father…
So, I’m sharing it here instead, where the only people who read it will be the few and far between, and it will be much less likely to fall into the hands he didn’t want them to end up in.
Also, I’m praying and thanking God for his goodness and His grace.
Happy Tuesday,
Kimberly
Jesus LeBron Jr. was united with his Lord and Savior on the early morning hours of January 25th, 2021, just less than 3 months shy of turning 65 and collecting his Social Security. Somehow Jesus knew he would either die before he reached this age, or all the money he put in since he was 16 would have been drained, and he would be left working until the day he died regardless, because he mentioned it every time he turned on the news.
Jesus was born March 13th, 1956 in Upper Manhattan, New York. He was raised there by his parents Jesus LeBron Sr. and Maria Lourdes (Maldonado) LeBron, before he decided he didn’t like New York anymore, so he moved to New Jersey. Jesus realized he didn’t like New Jersey either, so he moved to Pennsylvania. He realized he didn’t like it there either, so he moved to Texas, where he found home because he never had to shovel snow again and could enjoy the Texas heat with his beloved chihuahua Charlie.
Jesus was known for not liking things, but the things he did like, he loved with a strong and sincere heart. Those things are limited to Jesus Christ, his family, his friends, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and playing his drums. You might think we are joking with the KFC inclusion, but if you’re wondering why KFC remains in business, it was at the hand of their $5 fill-up and through the wallet of Jesus LeBron. Jesus could eat KFC, play the drums, and spend unlimited amounts of time with his friends and family and be the happiest man in the world. Unfortunately, he had to work in-between all of that, but it never stopped him or his dreams to become a better drummer on the daily, bringing smiles to peoples’ faces and glory to the Father up in heaven.
Jesus loved to play rock, fusion, jazz, and christian/gospel music. After moving to Texas, he even took a strong liking to country. He loved writing his own musical lyrics to go with his tight percussion licks, but it was sure never to go further than his family that loved to bust his chops and ensured he stuck to drums.
He received the first few pieces of his forever drum set from family as a young man, and he continued to add to it into his 60’s. You’d never know it was a butcher block Ludwig classic from the 70’s looking at it, because it was treated with tender love and care. His wife, children, and grandchildren got the pleasure of growing up watching him build this set and play it almost on a daily basis. The same set his son and daughter, born in the 80’s, danced to is the same set his granddaughters, who were born just several years ago, also danced to.
Aside from being an amazing musician, he was also an amazing provider, ensuring his wife and kids always had the very best. His family was always his first priority, and that always showed in the way he chose to live his life.
Even though Jesus was pretty darn amazing, he was also a real pain in the butt that loved to complain, so it was by the sweet grace of God that he managed to remain happily married to his surviving wife Claudia LeBron for 38 years. He is also survived by his son Kyle LeBron and his wife Nicole, his daughter Kimberly Allred and her husband Robert, his son at heart Joshua Bowker (who has no wife, but is single, available and not too picky), his sister Nilsa LeBron, who thought she was medically worse-off than her older brother (1 point Jesus!), his brother Enrique LeBron, his sister Marisol LeBron, his granddaughters Amber and Aurora, and many nieces, nephews, cousins, aunts and uncles (because lets be real, Puerto Ricans stay busy!). He is predeceased by his father Jesus LeBron Sr., his mother Maria Lourdes (Maldonado) LeBron, and his baby sister Elaine LeBron.