Loss and Love

As a parent, you try to do everything to protect your child to keep them safe, yet allowing them to spread their wings and practice moments of courage and bravery so that they can eventually leave the nest and soar.  When they are young, you teach them kindness, goodness, and integrity.  You protect them by locking up your cleaning supplies, teaching them not to take candy from strangers, and monitoring their internet usage.  You wonder if you are doing enough.  You feel like if you follow all the rules and do the right things, life should be good.

Regardless of how much you try to control, you find out you really have very little it.  In a moment, it can all slip away, leaving you questioning if you did it all wrong, if you did enough, if you should have done it differently.  You learn that you love the child you have been given, not the child you thought you would have.  You love, but as time passes, you learn to love well.

Anna Whiston-Donaldson, mother, writer, and blogger, experienced one of a mother’s worst nightmares.  She followed all the rules to protecting her children without smothering.  It was a warm day at the end of summer, and she let her children play with the neighborhood children in the rain. 

Anna tells her story in Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love.  Her 12-year-old son, who was cautious and always followed the rules, was swept away in a raging creek, a creek that she had never warned her children about, a creek that was usually dry and had never given an inkling of a threat, a creek that grew into a monstrous raging river that day during a 150-year rain event.      

Anna’s story is also a journey of her faith in Christ – not a fluffy, shallow story about how He carried her through and gave her all the strength she needed, though He did.  She tells a story sharing her raw grief, emotions, and changes over the next year as their family dynamics were forever altered on this side of heaven.  She writes with heart and poise, gifted with words to evoke the reader to share the journey with her.  In the middle of her grief, she also shares her glimpses of hope, love, encouragement.

I found this book to be utterly heart-wrenching as well as enlightening.  I hope never to experience such depths of despair, but I do hope to be able to learn from others without having to endure it myself.  She helped me to understand what others may need in their times of grief, to know what is ‘normal’ as one grieves, and proves that after the darkness can come the dawn. (I received a complimentary copy of this book from Convergent Books in exchange for my honest review.)

Letter to Dad in 1991, from Me in 2013

Dear Dad in 1991,

I wish you could have a peek into the future.  I’m writing this now as your daughter at age 42, to you as a father at near the same age back then, wishing we both could know how things will turn out and be encouraged. 

In these difficult yet crucial decision-making years of my late teens, you may feel discouraged as I try to figure out who I am and where I’m going.  You may feel like you are failing – but you aren’t.  I am listening, even if it seems like I’m not.  The time you spend with me will leave a lasting impression.  Your efforts to know me while I don’t even know myself are not futile. 

You take me sailing, just the two of us. I may seem sullen and grumbly, and you may wish you had never bothered, but even so, it was not for nothing.  You are showing me you care.

You play racquetball with me and afterwards treat me to limeade slushes at Sonic.  We have fun together. You are showing me I have value.

We escape after dinner for Italian ice so we can talk, just the two of us. You let me pick the radio station and you listen to my music, even though you don't like it. You want to know what's going on in my head.  You are showing me that my opinions are worth something.

It may seem like I scoff at you and disregard your advice, but deep down, I really am listening.  In my youthful arrogance, I argue, thinking I know more than you, but you listen.  You don’t blow me off or ignore me, nor do you lecture me.  Instead, you ask questions that make me think, and then you give advice, continuing to insist that God’s ways are the best ways.  Then you watch me go my own way and make mistakes, but you bite your tongue and never say, “I told you so.”  You don’t give up on me.

And it made all the difference.

I know it’s hard right now.  You tease that you hope someday I'll have a daughter just like me - so that I’ll know what I put you through.  And you'll get your wish - times two.  Then you will say you're sorry you ever said that, and I'll laugh, and we'll hug each other with love and appreciation.

The times now may be difficult, but I will grow up, and I will have all the things you dream for me – a long-lasting and wonderful marriage, children, a successful career, but most of all, a life centered on Christ.  Through the valley of shadows and over the mountains of victory, Jesus will become my everything. 

And you have no idea that you are showing me how to be a godly parent to my own strong-willed children in their teen years. You are passing on a legacy of faith and love.

Hang on, Dad, don’t give up. Your reward will come.

Love,

Your daughter in 2013

Ridding Our Homes of Youth Entitlement

Do we love our kids enough to let them fail? To make them work? To step aside rather than step in? Kay Wyma, blogger turned published author, can certainly relate to the desire to jump in the driver’s seat and take control for her kids, even when she knows her meddling isn’t helping in the long run. When she observed that her children felt they were entitled to be served rather than to serve, she decided to embark on “The Experiment”, a 12-month journey to teach her children how to be productive at home while instructing on basic life skills, and she tells her accounts in her book Cleaning House: A Mom’s 12-Month Experiment to Rid Her Home of Youth Entitlement.

Kay Wyma describes herself as a wife, organizationally-impaired mother of 5 (ages 3-14), a controller, procrastinator, manipulator, and recovering enabler. But as she weaves her way through each of the twelve months, it’s obvious she is clever, witty, and down-to-earth.

In the year-long experiment, she designates a theme for each month in which she assigns specific tasks that teach life skills such as how to: cook and clean a kitchen, do yard work, run errands, do laundry, host a party, perform handyman jobs, etc. Each chapter tells of her humorous journey of giving charge to her kids on the new task for the month and what was accomplished (or not accomplished) both externally in the home and internally in their character.

She doesn’t sugar-coat her stories by proclaiming sickening success; in fact, some aspects are big flops with lessons we can learn from. With hilarious detail, she conveys how she dealt with attitudes of apathy and entitlement as well as mood swings. At the end of each chapter, she summarizes the month’s successes and failures and what both she and the kids learned.

In my last post ("Should Kids Do Chores?"), I quoted some practical insights from this book. She gave me the idea of the “stock market” method for allowances, and I have not had to remind my teenagers to do their chores or help around the house ever since!

This book is fun and full of ideas that parents can implement in order to equip children with life skills and defeat the attitude that the world is there to serve them. I highly recommend this book to every mom who has kids of any age living at home.Disclaimer: I was provided a complimentary copy of this book by WaterbookMultnomah Publishing in exchange for my unbiased review.

Should Our Kids Do Chores?

“We don’t have chores because school is our job,” announced my 10-year-old niece as my son cinched the overflowing trash bag in the kitchen to take it outside.  Never mind that it was summer and school was not in session during the season my nieces and nephews came to live with us. At first my nieces gloated and waited to be served while my kids poured their own drinks, washed their own dishes, made their own beds, cleaned up their messes, did their own laundry, took care of the dogs, and mowed the lawn. To compound the difficulty, their sweet mom said she didn’t believe in chores because “serving them is the way I show love”.   

Maybe I appeared as selfish and unloving, but I didn’t give my kids chores out of selfishness.   Most of the time, it would be easier to do it myself than to teach, remind, and follow up.  As a working mom, I need my kids to help, but even if I did not work outside the home, I would still have them doing the same chores. It’s just a part of being in a family and learning to take care of your space.  Work is not a curse; it's a gift. Besides, play is more relished after working hard.

In Kay Wills Wyma’s book Cleaning House, (see my book review), she says that when we do everything for our kids, they receive “a big fat load of free time, reinforced expectations of being served, and confirmation that they belong on the sidelines of life. We made it easy for them to assume that many doable tasks fall outside their realm of competency or responsibility.” (p.168)

Could you hear me cheering as I read that?  I have felt much in need of reinforcement that I was doing the right thing by assigning chores to my children, especially when they perform their tasks grudgingly, while recently my nieces and nephew actually get excited about pitching in and helping out joyfully for no compensation.

“We should view daily household chores as a necessity because the kids themselves need to work. Our kids need to know how to persevere. They need to know that no job is beneath them. They need to know what it takes to operate a home. They need to know that sometimes you have to get dirty to get things clean. They need to know how to serve. They need to know that a family operates as a unit, everyone pitching in. They need to know that they belong, that they are a part of the group, that they are needed.” (page 169)

The best part – my kids actually have started to feel a little good about the fact that they have chores. I think maybe deep down they like being entrusted with responsibility, and they are becoming aware that it is building their character and preparing them for adulthood. Yes, our kids should do chores. 

Linking up with A Pause on the Path and Finding Heaven

Busy Mom's Guide to Parenting Teens - Book Review

A canoe trip down a mountain river – that’s how Paul C. Reisser describes parenting teenagers.  The scenery is constantly changing and is always interesting, but sometimes you go through choppy waters, roaring rapids, and around the next bend may be a waterfall. It’s our job to keep the family canoe as stable as possible and prevent it from flipping before our teenagers reach the calmer waters of adulthood.  Dr. Reisser of Focus on the Family Physicians Resource Council provides a map with information on how to not just survive but enjoy the journey in his book Busy Mom’s Guide to Teen Parenting.

Using a question and answer format, Dr. Reisser leads the reader through the physical, emotional, and relational transformation from childhood to adulthood.  Chapter 1 addresses the physical changes that occur and reads a bit like a science book. The remaining chapters address issues such as striving for independence, social media, sexuality, tobacco and drug abuse, and tough issues that can derail a teen’s self-concept (bullying, eating disorders, depression, etc.).

In the last chapter, “Preparing to Pass the Baton,” he places the parenting journey into a broad perspective.  As parents, we have been entrusted by God to help mold our teenagers’ character, values, and spirituality while preparing them for such practical matters as choosing a career handling finances, and finding a spouse. It sounds overwhelming, but it is achieved one small step at a time.

This book could have been titled “the Busy Parents’ Guide” instead of targeting moms as the intended readers.  All information was as useful to fathers as to mothers.   Also, if you are looking for specific answers on social media limitation guidelines, the answers are vague, perhaps because every child is different and there is not one black-and-white answer that applies.

This is a basic teen parenting book to start reading if parenting teens is unfamiliar territory.  I would recommend this book especially to parents of pre-teens to prepare for the journey and to begin to have open eyes to the lurking dangers.  As a parent of a teenager that has been journeying through the roaring rapids already and bracing myself for whatever lies around the next bend, this book doesn’t have much to offer except to encourage me to try to enjoy the ride a little more.   

I was provided a complimentary copy of this book from Tyndale House Publishers in exchange for my honest review.

Hope for Parents of Troubled Teens - Book Review

When I saw the Hope for Parents of Troubled Teens by licensed counselor Connie Rae, I knew this book was just for me at this time in my life (see my last post on "Why Teenagers Rebel").  Not that I believe I have ‘troubled’ teens.  But I DO have a 15-year-old who thinks she is 21 and blames me for her rebellion because of ‘all the rules’.  She could be headed on a path for trouble, and over the last year I’ve been evaluating all the things we might have done wrong as parents that have led to her internal conflict. I was in desperate need of hope, guidance, encouragement, and I found it from Connie Rae.

Connie Rae has been there – not just from her 25 years of professional counseling experience, but personally with her own teen son whose decisions landed him in and out of jail for a season of their lives.  She gained my respect from the beginning with her humility at not having all the answers and lessons learned through her own story. 

So while this book doesn’t necessarily give all the answers, she provides guidance on how to understand and relate to your teen (whether rebellious or not) and how to manage conflict.  She offers insight into how teens of this generation think differently because they have been taught to question and analyze, and how we as parents should respond without assuming that our values are rejected.  She explains their need for determining their own identity and why they rebel. Her chapters dealing with unnatural highs were enlightening as well.

She sprinkles hope and encouragement throughout the book, but my favorite part was when she explained the art of “hanging on loosely” and “letting go lightly”.  Never stop doing the right thing.  Never stop praying.  Believe that God will do His thing. Even if you feel you have done some things wrong, today is a new day.  Build on the things you have done right.  Forgive yourself. Do what you can.  It’s never too late to do the right things, with the right attitude, for the right reasons. 

We can’t necessarily change our teens, but we can change ourselves.  When we change in the right ways for the right reasons, our teens will eventually respond differently.  Fiercely hold on to what is right, even when they push back.  Our love has limits that have a hard time seeing beyond our own personal hurts and frustrations, but God’s love can reach through us.  Love is being the best person we can be in Christ so that our child can become the best person he/she can be.

This book might be better titled without the word “troubled” as it seems to apply to any parent with teens – even compliant ones.  I would highly recommend this book to parents of pre-teens (as well as teens) for insight into how the teen mind thinks in this generation, and to be prepared in advance if your teen suddenly causes upheaval and chaos in the home.  She provides the information, wisdom, and encouragement needed for the journey.

I was provided a complimentary copy of this book by Bethany House Publishers in exchange for my honest review.

Why Teenagers Rebel - a Teen Perspective

By Emily Greene, age 15.8 years old

Why do teenagers rebel? I had to repeat that several times to myself because it’s a difficult question that can’t be answered the same for everyone. Some teenagers may feel lonely and not loved, so they feel that if they rebel, maybe they will get the attention they need. 

This is not the case for me.  I know my family loves me.  Too much. They show it in many ways, but in a sense, I still feel lonely, like something is missing and I want to seek it.  Some people dream to have a family that’ll care and love them as much as my family does for me, but at times I can’t stand it. I feel trapped in a box that I’ll never be able to escape.  I know my parents have rules for a reason and they only make them because they care, not because they want to make me mad all the time.  But I feel as if those lines I’m forbidden to cross are preventing me from filling the empty hole in my heart. 

Another part of me hates being told what to do or what not to do. I like to feel as if all my options are open and I can choose to walk through any door I want without the worry of a door being locked. If a door is locked, I want to know what is behind it.  That’s the door I want.

I want to learn from my own mistakes. I want that sense of freedom, which I feel when I rebel. The feeling of power over myself is a feeling I can’t have when I’m trapped. That’s why I rebel – the hole in my heart and wanting to finding out what fills it.

Emily

My daughter wrote this on the airplane on our vacation while she was 'bored'.  We have been struggling lately - the limits my husband and I place in her life at age 15 when she wants to be 21.  She says our rules make her want to rebel. Yet, some rules we just have to keep in place in order to live obediently to God as parents.

My heart breaks – not for me but for all the pain that she is willing to invite into her life by choosing her own way as the ultimate way. 

 I wonder how long it will take and what she will experience before she finally realizes that only Jesus can fill that hole. Only Jesus will satisfy. 

As a mother, what can I do? All I know is to keep on loving her as Jesus does and to be her biggest prayer warrior.

Linking up with: Working Kansas Homemaker, Soli Deo Gloria,and A Pause on the Path.

When to Love, When to Hate

When my daughter was a pre-schooler, she asked me if it was okay to hate the devil.  I think I stumbled over the question, trying to say both yes and no, explaining that God loves everyone and had created Satan as the most beautiful angel ever. It was the actions, the sin that God hated. When I think of Satan, I think of the evil things he does and I hate them…it’s hard to separate his actions from his being. 

Try saying to your children, “I hope you grow up to be as good at hating as Jesus is.”  Such a provocative statement will grab their attention! It’s been easy for me to see that Jesus is loving and caring. But to think of Jesus as someone who hated is harder to swallow.  No, he never hated people. But he always hated sin and evil, actions that led the people he loves into bondage. 

I live in a small city that is occupied by a “Christian” hate group that stands on street corners with signs expressing God’s hate for certain types of people.  That’s not the kind of hate Jesus had. I hate their hate. Then there are those who protest the protesters by waving our country’s flag and proclaiming peace.  Instead of responding with returned hate, they try to point to what is good.

While sometimes it is hard to separate a person’s actions from their being, it is truly possible to completely hate the action of a person and still completely love him. When one of my children tells me a lie or shows disrespect, it brings me grief. I hate that lie with a passion and I hate the disrespect with a vengeance because it puts a strain in our relationship. Yet even in my frustration, I still love both my children immensely and nothing they do could ever change that. I want them to hate sin and to hate evil in their own lives so that they will not suffer that barrier that they place between themselves and God.

Jesus may have hated, but he hated actions, not people. His love for people even in the midst of their sin is evident throughout the gospels. He loved them even while they were choosing sin. He offered the means for the barrier between them and God to be broken. Because He loved so much, through the cross He provided the way for the bridge to remove the gap.

I want my kids to hate – to hate sin – to hate it enough to turn away from filthy music, raunchy television shows, and immoral actions of peers. I want them to love goodness and light, to let Jesus shine through them so that others will be drawn to Him and away from the ways of the world that entice, trap, and enslave. I want them to be good at hating what Jesus hated, and to be good at loving what Jesus loved.

"Remember Who You Are"

"Remember who you are."

My parents said those words repeatedly when I left the house to go places as  a teenager.  I don’t recall exactly what they meant, but I think it had something to do with properly representing the family name. 

Like the clichés “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about” or “this will hurt me more than it will hurt you”, it never occurred to me that I would ever repeat “remember who you are” to my own children. 

Yet, those simple words flew out of my mouth last Friday night as my daughter stepped out the door to go to a high school football game and dance.  A million things that I wanted to say went through my mind, but in the brief moment of opportunity to speak, those four words popped out of my mouth. I wonder what she thought I meant when she called out “I will” as she crossed the threshold into the world.

If I could think faster and had a few extra minutes, when I said “Remember who you are,” I really wanted to say:

     Remember that you have the light of Jesus in you. Remember not to conceal it but to find ways to let it shine.

     Remember you are a child of God and He is always by your side to give you courage and to show you how to demonstrate His love to others.

     Remember He is ready to give you courage to take the narrow path and to live in purity.

     Remember that in a moment, in a split-second decision, all of life can change, but if you follow God’s ways and seek His guidance in every step you take, you will be able to walk in confidence no matter what happens.

    Remember, you don’t have to do what everyone else is doing. You are supposed to be different.

   Remember the more you let your light shine, the darkness will retreat!

Become what you are becoming.  Be who you are!

When Forgiveness Is Denied (Forgiveness Part 1)

In a cycle of hurt feelings and retaliation, my daughter played a “prank” on a friend. It wasn’t just something silly. It was destructive, performed in a spirit of revenge. Afterwards, she was sorrowful for her vindictive behavior when she realized how much pain it inflicted. So last weekend, I accompanied her to her friend’s house to meet with both the girl and her mother to apologize.

Before she could complete her apology, her friend exploded with strings of profanities and accusations that appalled me while her mother quietly observed. Tears streamed down my daughter’s cheeks as she received the onslaught and fought the urge to defend herself in like manner. My gentle pat on her back reminded her not to mirror the behavior, but instead to do what Jesus would do in the middle of false accusations and just listen and be silent. Her friend was unwilling to listen. We left unable to achieve any reconciliation or peace.

For a while, I doubted my decision to allow my daughter to be subjected to verbal abuse. Perhaps I should have removed her from the situation sooner, insisting on mutual respect. Perhaps I should have said we would return later when her friend was willing to have a discussion.

This week, God reassured me through Matthew 5 - Jesus tells us not to lose a minute but to make the first move to make things right. He wants us to abandon our worship and offerings if we remember a grudge a friend has against us and go immediately to work things out. We are responsible for our own actions, not others’ responses.

God’s way is not always the easy way and may look strange to the world, but it is always the best way, even if it doesn’t seem like it at the time. Doing the right thing was hard. It took courage. And at the moment, it feels unrewarded. But I deeply recognize how beautiful forgiveness can be now that I know how it feels to have it denied for a long length of time.

I am fighting the feeling of resentment for the verbal attack on my daughter. Holding onto a wrong seems to be the easier way sometimes. The flesh naturally wants to rehearse the wrongs, compile a list of offenses, and command repayment for what is owed. But if I hang on to my resentment, then I am no better off than the offender.

God’s forgiveness when I repent has never looked so beautiful. When someone expresses remorse for wrong done to me, I would like to think I would be quick to grant it. But what if the offender is never sorry? Am I required to forgive? And does forgiving mean that I have to always forget the offense as well? Have I truly forgiven if I keep remembering it? I plan to explore the answers in my next three posts and would love to hear your thoughts.

Class Rosters, Control, and Something Better

Every fall, as a parent I feel a little anxiety over which teacher or which peers will be in my kids’ classes.  This feeling reminds me to urge my kids to pray and trust that God knows what is best for them.  Still, I struggle to suppress the desire to take action – to initiate requests for specific teachers or control the outcome in some way. 

If I really believe that God hears my prayers, knows what is best, and is involved in the details of our lives, then unless I feel Him pressing on my heart to take action, I should just let Him have the control. I don't need to try to manipulate things to go my way.  Still, it isn’t easy…

Five Years Ago

I remember that sweltering hot afternoon in Texas standing in lines outside the elementary school doors, waiting for a peek at the class rosters for the new school year (WHY didn’t they post them on the web??).  My daughter and I had prayed that God would give her the beloved fifth grade teacher that she deeply hoped for and that her best friend would be in her class.  When we approached the doors, finally next in line, huge tears swelled in her eyes as she discovered that God gave her neither – in fact, she not only got the ‘worstest teacher ever,’ but there was no one in her circle of friends on her class roster. To compound the matter, her best friend got the best teacher and all the good friends.  She sobbed in the car the whole way home and my heart broke for her. 

Fast forward one month later – the ‘worstest teacher ever’ turned out to be the best -- a great fit to prepare her for middle school.  Jenna, a girl in her class that seemed obnoxious the year before, became her new best friend. Even more amazing, a couple years later, Jenna moved to Kansas the exact same year that we were also transplanted, and their friendship has continued to deepen as they live only one hour apart.  God didn’t give us what we wished for.  He gave us something better.

Today

As I write this, my son’s eyes are puffy and red from tears of disappointment.  My heart is shattering with his. I want to step in and take control, to fix the problem, but I need to remember what God has done in the past so that I can trust Him with the future.

I had tried to prepare for this.  Last night, while counting the number of fifth and sixth graders that might be enrolled this year, I considered the idea of the dreaded “combination class.”   When I mentioned the possibility to my son, he said he’d rather die than be stuck with baby fifth graders.  My words of comfort were that perhaps my idea was wacky and that instead we should pray and trust God with the outcome.

But then what did I do? I e-mailed the principal my son’s concern about the combination class hoping it would overrule my sister’s phone call that our boys be placed in separate classes.  My sister had not known about the possibility of the combination class, and if she had, she never would have made that phone call.  Otherwise, one of us would have a suicidal sixth grader on our hands.  How could I just sit back and see what God would do?  How could the combination class be good for either of them? I knew it would be better for them to be together than for one of them to be in the combination class.

Then the dreaded thing happened. This afternoon, the principal called and personally explained why my sixth grader was ESPECIALLY hand-picked for the combination class, the class that he had declared was worse than death itself (just for dramatic effect – we know heaven is better than ANYTHING). 

Now 

My son doesn’t really want to hear that God knows better, that what He gives is better than what we wish. He doesn’t want to hear that God is in control and has this planned for his good.  All he knows is that right now it feels like the end of the world and he wants me to change it.  And I am fighting the urge to fix his pain by manipulating the outcome. Do I intervene to give him what he wants and what I think is good for him? Or do I just listen and watch, and be ready to remind him a month from now that God did indeed give Him something better...

Mother's Day - the Pain and the Joy

It is not chains that hold a marriage together. It is hundreds of tiny threads which are sown together over the passage of time.  Over the years, God has been teaching me how to look at life through His perspective through the Word, and life experiences have shown me that weaving those threads around the central cord of Christ is what gives my marriage not only joyful longevity but strength to endure the Refiner’s fire.

Before kids, Mother’s Day had always been about celebrating and honoring our own mothers, but 16 years ago, for the first time, Mother’s Day was finally going to be my day, or it was supposed to be… But things didn’t turn out like I had planned.

I distinctly remember that May of 1995, sitting in the pew at our church when the pastor asked all the mothers to stand. As I remained seated, my heart ached.  Not just because I wanted to be a mother and wasn’t, but because I felt like I should have been a mother and God took it from me.  A miscarriage a few months rocked my faith, and to deepen the pain, the baby’s due date would have been that Mother’s Day.

Later in the day at a quick shop, the cashier handed me a rose and said “happy mother’s day”.  I refused the rose, shamefully murmuring that I was not a mother.  His insistence that I accept it affirmed my value and place in the world as a woman. God used him to show me that I did not have to be a mother to my own biological children to use the qualities of nurturing and caring for others to impact my world.

I believed in Jesus as my personal savior at the age of 6, but God took me to a new level in my relationship with him when I realized I could not control something I wanted so badly.   I turned to His Word, the Psalms, where I learned how to express both disappointment and reverence, and both despair and hope.  In the Psalms, I can pass from thinking of God as a part of my life to the realization that I am part of His.  

Psalm 46 was the passage I clung to in that season of my life.   “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.  There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells.” 

God revealed to me in this passage that even if creation itself became uncreated, a river of joy flowed from the Lord’s mighty throne.  He bestowed on me a sense of comfort, a sense of hope, something better someday.  God is good, even if at the moment from my own perspective it doesn’t seem like it.

The center cord of Christ secured the threads of my marriage as my husband honored me and expressed my worth, even if God did not plan parenthood for us.  As my faith was refined while walking through the dark valley, I realized that my identity was not to be found in motherhood, but in Christ.  If He did not choose to bless me with biological children, perhaps He would choose to use me to bless others and in a sense have “spiritual children.” 

It seemed like years had passed, but on Mother’s Day one year later, I worshiped in that same pew while embracing the amazing gift of our newborn baby in my arms.  And a few years later, the Lord blessed me with another. 

Even though my children are now 11 and 15 years old, every Mother’s Day I remember the pain of loss but also the joy that comes in the morning.  While I cherish the gift and calling of motherhood, most of all I cherish the love and greatness of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and desire to continue to grow in understanding of His perspective through all the chapters of my life as He works them out for our good and to His glory.