Joe Dorris Speech from Betty Dorris' Funeral

When I was 16, it unexpectedly occurred to me how hard life must have been for Mom when she was living in South America.  I turned to her and said, "Hey Mom, what was it like raising four young kids in a foreign country without immediate help from friends or family?"  My dear, sweet mother slowly turned her head to me with a look of burden I had never seen before.  With an air of humor in her voice she said, "Those were dark times."  We both understood it was a joke, but the message was clear: she didn't have it easy.  Gods servants have it good…but they don't always have it easy.  But she loved what she was doing and much light came from those so-called dark times.  

As a result of her busy Missionary Mom schedule, one thing Mom held sacred was her daily nap.  She considered herself a low-energy person, which is ironic considering how much she accomplished in life.  And in true childhood ignorance I made a habit of running into her bedroom during these nap times.  Falling to my knees by the bed as if in prayer, I'd plant my face closely to hers--my wide eyes staring at her closed eyes.  After a few seconds her eyes would flutter open and give me a tired but loving look.  I'd start talking about pretty much anything and she would ask questions here and there to show she was listening.  On the days she was really tired I'd just plop onto the bed beside here and take a nap too.  

When Mom needed to get up from her nap she'd ask for "Crane Service," which consisted of grabbing each leg, pulling it out of the bed and onto the floor, followed by grabbing an arm and walking back several steps until she sat up.  Of course, this was all a silly game but I still believe it really helped her get up.  On occasion she'd ask for a foot massage, which I, on occasion, was willing to give.  Her beautiful feet were bringing the good news everywhere, so they got to be pretty tired come nap time.  Despite all of the times I interrupted Mom's precious naps, I have no recollection of her ever turning me away.

The day I left for my first trip to Guatemala would be the last time I'd ever see her in person.  She was too sick to get out of bed so I walked up the stairs to her bedroom, like I had so many times before.  As always, I walked in quietly and knelt by the bed.  Her eyes fluttered half open and she gave me a smile.  I'm not sure what we talked about but I don't think it mattered.  I'll never forget the feeling of love in that moment.  I kissed her on the head, said goodbye, and walked back down the stairs.  Each step carried a mountain of weight.

While preparing for Moms funeral I gained new clarity about the state of her heart in those moments when I invaded her sanctuary of rest.  In one of the family photo albums, I found an old Times Herald news article in which she was featured for her missionary work in Haiti.  In it she was quoted as saying, "Each day I see needs in people I come into contact with and wonder if perhaps there is a special reason we've met and pray I don't fall short of the task God has given me at this point in time."  To those who knew her at any point in her life I ask: do you think she ever stopped saying that prayer?

Psalm 66:20 says, "Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me."  God doesn't turn people away.  Neither did Mom--and she gained this character from Him.  Mom believed she could talk to God at any time and about anything.  And she allowed others to talk to her at any time and about any thing.

Betty Dorris was and is a Godly inspiration.  I hope that when people meet me, they will leave the conversation thinking, "Wow, he's just like his mother."