"Mom" Boxes

There are two "Mom" boxes on my sink-dressing area. One is wooden. One is made of mirrored glass. One  has Mother-praising adjectives on its surface. The other has a verse from Proverbs 31. Both seem to serve the same purpose, to honor me as a mother. This makes me very happy. But the first is a symbol of the hardest time in my life as a mother. The second is a symbol of the truth in Psalm 30:5, "...weeping may remain for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning."

The first and the second box, however, are brackets marking either side of an era. The first was given to me on Mothers' Day by my older daughter. I was surprised to get a gift at all from her that year. At that time, she was in rebellion against us. She had chosen her own path, which included dating a handsome, educated man from Jordan. In the two years that they went out, my husband and I saw him only two times. On one of those occasions, we actually got to talk to him. She kept him, and herself away from us.

During this time, she graduated from college and became a flight attendant. She was based at Laguardia in New York City. She mentioned in a phone call that Sex and the City  was a show that described her life. Since she had free flights, we would hear now, and then, that people had seen her, at the airport or having her hair done. We wouldn't even know she was in town.

In the summer of 2001, I finally surrendered her to God, emotionally exhausted with worrying about her. I asked myself what the worst thing that could happen in this situation was. The reply was that she could die in her lifestyle. Would God still be God? Would He be in control? (Psalm 33:8-11) Yes, He would. I felt that she knew Him, and that she would be with Him, if death were where all this would end.

I imagined the second worst thing that could happen. She could marry this young man, whom we didn't even know. Would God still be God?  Yes. Could He handle this situation? Yes. Nothing is impossible with Him (Luke 1:37).

Then came September 11, 2001. A call came from one of her friends, who lived in Washington, DC, wondering if we had heard from her. When we asked what she meant, she told us to turn on the television. As I stood in my living room watching the plane fly into the second building, I thought of her airport, so close by. I asked, "Is this my answer, Lord? Is my daughter on one of those planes?"

Soon afterward, we finally got in touch with her before all communication stopped. She had NOT been working that day, but she was shaken. In Queens, she could smell the smoke that had already drifted over the Hudson River. Jets were circling overhead. And her Sex-and-the-City lifestyle didn't seem glamorous anymore.

As soon as planes were flying again, she came home. On her second night there, she came into our bedroom late at night. She quietly announced that she and her boyfriend had eloped. They were now married.

With a reduction in flights, the airline had to let some flight attendants go. She was one of those who had been hired within the last couple of years, so she lost her job. She and her new husband got an apartment within five minutes of our house about the time she found out she was pregnant.

The next five years were hard ones. The baby was a girl, who is the delight of my heart. About the same time as my daughter discovered she was pregnant for the second time, she also discovered what she had long suspected. Her husband had another life, dominated by alcohol and the behavior that accompanies addictions.

To keep our daughter and granddaughter safe and since they had not been supported financially by her husband, we let them move back in with us. Our grandson was born when his sister was four, just before the divorce. They moved out when the children were nine and five.

Which brings me to the second "Mom" box. The reason our daughter and her children moved out was that God had allowed another man to come into her life. He, too, had made some bad choices, but God called him to Himself. The young man then made the best choice of his life, the choice to follow Jesus. Together they have grown in the Lord as they have grown close to each other.

This is the person who gave me the second "Mom" box to me. The occasion was the rehearsal dinner for their wedding. To me, it is a symbol of the ending of a long time of suffering for us all. Instead of reminding me of the saddest part of my life as a mother, this one reminds me of a faithful God. In His grace He gave my daughter a second chance. He brought her, and me as a mother, joy in the morning.

Mother's Journey

Life moves in stages. One step progresses. Then it is time for it to be over. Another stage begins. And so on. It is all part of God's plan for our lives. God is good and His heart can be trusted. He is there in every stage, working everything for good for those who are His (Romans 8:28).

Mother is in the hospital  with what seems to be the beginning of another stage in her life. Two weeks ago she was getting around on her own with her walker, talking and joking, and taking care of her daily needs. Now she sounds drunk when she talks, has trouble walking, and has to have help for daily functions. A week in bed after a fall seems to have lowered her resistence to symptoms of dementia. Her activity level had been her way of pushing against what was going on in her life. Once she stopped moving around, the symptoms took over like kudzu on a deserted road.

I sit beside her, in the hospital recliner, keeping everything light and trying to make this stage of the journey as enjoyable as it can be. We watch a tv news show, then switch to the channel that has videos of picturesque scenery accompanied by soft, elevator music. She remarks that it looks like there's an old car in the middle of that waterfall. I say that rocks can look like most anything, when I know that the real problem is that she can't really see the detail on the screen. We chat about the flowers in another scene. She wonders where this video was filmed. I remark that I'd like to have the job of going around the world and filming beautiful scenery.

The chatter goes on and on, theme music of a sort for this final stage of a life that started almost 88 years ago. I want to be there as much as possible, cheering her up. It is, after all, part of life.

In the Repair Shop

As if there weren't enough already, the state of Tennessee has a new law. The “Check Engine” light cannot be on, on the dashboard for any reason, ora vehicle will not pass inspection. My cute little white Toyota is now in the shop for the third time, with the mechanics trying to get her up to snuff. Therefore, I have been stuck at home for several days.

Don’t get me wrong. Getting to stay at home is bliss, compared to the years I had to head to school by 7 am, battle students all day, and then drag my weary body back home to grade papers and generate more lesson plans. Throughout my life, however, I have found that when I spend great chunks of time relatively alone, I start to get down.

I start thinking about friends whom I don’t see any more. I wonder what they are doing and if we’re still friends. Scenes of times when I’ve made a fool of myself or really failed at something start filling my mind. If it goes on too long, I start feeling like I’m back in seventh grade with zits on my face and ugliness in my clothing. I feel awkward and lonely all over again. The negativity builds, and I start spiraling down.

But  today it hit me. What a great place to be, because this is where Jesus meets me! When I’m worrying and doubting and lonely and afraid, I realize that I need Him. That’s the meeting place for Him and me, if I cry out to Him, and tell Him the down and dirty about what I’m thinking and where I am. He promises to rescue me!

Psalm 40:1-3 says it:

            I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned to me and heard my cry.

            He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire.

            He set my feet upon a rock and gave me a place to stand.

            He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.

            Many will see and fear and will trust in the Lord.

This is a time when Satan wants me in his hip pocket, doubting God’s ability to make a difference in my life. He wants to whisper, “See. You don’t have any friends. You’re growing older and overweight. Your being on this planet has influenced no one. You’ve just been deluding yourself.”

Instead, God is shouting loud and clear, “YOU ARE MY BELOVED DAUGHTER! I LOVE YOU BECAUSE I REDEEMED YOU. I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING YOU.  YOUR LIFE MATTERS BECAUSE I AM USING YOU FOR MY GLORY. AS YOU YIELD YOUR LIFE TO ME MORE AND MORE, I WILL DO AMAZING THINGS THAT YOU WON’T BELIEVE. AND, YES, MANY WILL SEE AND FEAR AND WILL TRUST IN ME!”

What a great day this is! How glad I am that my Toyota and I are both in the mechanic’s hands. What a wonderful work the Master Mechanic will do! How grateful I am for the downward spiral, so that I can see His gentle hand on my life!

Miss Morton is 100!

        For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans
        to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope
        and a future.
                                                              Jeremiah 29:11

       

My second grade teacher just turned 100! It seems like a long time ago that I shyly sat in my little chair in that classroom at Avon Elementary School. Miss Morton was strict, very strict. I shivered in my chair in my crinilin petticoats under the dresses girls wore to school then, afraid to do anything wrong.

She must have been a good teacher. I learned a lot, I'm sure. But the thing I remember about second grade was the strictness of my teacher. Through the decades of my own teaching career, I have found that I needed some of what Miss Morton had. Discipline was the hardest element of teaching for me. What could have been look upon as a negative, her unbending strictness, is now a positive in my adult mind. I needed a little of it myself.

God chooses to bring into our lives whom He chooses into our lives for a reason. And He uses every experience for His glory and our ultimate good. It's that fact that I hang on to, with Romans 8:28 as proof, that makes this painting of life so beautiful!

God uses the vivid greens and bright blues of a day like today, with a whole day to myself and the sun warming the white azaelas with blooms bursting like popcorn in their thickness. He blends in the greys of stormy days, swirling those clouds we call problems into the other colors, making them more more rich because of the blend.

So it is with our lives. He takes the positive things: the family days that are so welcome, the friends who share our hearts, the close times with the Lord, the beautiful scenery, and one and on. He swirls in the hard times: the financial struggles, conflicts, misunderstandings, worry, fear, times when we forget Him and regret it, and that list goes on and on too. The resulting painting is stunning, just the way He planned it to be, all parts in perfect harmony, with an over all feeling of peace.

He's not through with the painting either. Like watercolor that hasn't quite dried yet, He will pick up a hue of circumstance and blend it with a tone of grace. What seemed like a tragic circumstance will be shown to be part of a breathtaking addition to our life stories. The awesome result could only have come out that way with the black and grey of suffering blended in.

How I thank Him that He is at work in our lives! I can't wait to see the finished product! Meanwhile, I'll trust Him with His divine paintbrush!