A Match Made in Heaven

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Sanctuary of A Angustia, Betanzos, Galicia (Spain)

When I submitted the manuscript for “Walking My Mother Home,” I knew that the story between me, Rosa and Pedro, my Spanish family, was far from over. The healing I received when my mother passed away created a beautiful bond between Rosa and I that will last the rest of my life. What is so unique about this relationship is that Rosa and I don’t speak the same language, we live 5,300 miles apart, and we have never met. But that is about to change.

Next week, almost three years to the day we welcomed Pedro into our home that first summer, I will step on Spanish soil and meet Rosa, my kindred spirit and sister in Christ. It will be the beginning of the trip of a lifetime for me—six weeks in Spain.

Over the past two years, since Pedro was last in our home, Rosa and I have continued to communicate via email and online translators. We have both looked forward to the day when we’ll meet in person. Rosa has been learning English to facilitate our communications. I have been writing and blogging more about this story and our relationship across the miles.

One of the key pieces of the story that materialized shortly after my mother died was the role that Pedro’s music played in our relationship. As I mentioned in “Walking My Mother Home,” Pedro played the piano while he was in our home. I also mentioned that my oldest son was a gifted pianist. This is significant because Pedro was placed in our home precisely because his musical interest matched with my two sons’ musical abilities. It was a match made in heaven.

Pedro played the piano every day he was in our home. My son played Beethoven, Chopin and other classical composers’ music. Pedro was interested in cinema and played American movie soundtracks to films like “The Sound of Music” and “The Sting.” I didn’t know it at the time, but interspersed with his music, he played a few of his own compositions.

A few months after Pedro returned to Spain, he sent our family a song he composed and dedicated to us: “Seattle”. This song, and others he started to send me, were salve to my aching heart as I grieved over the death of my mother. His music has become a staple of my life as he writes songs that mark the special occasions in our lives—my own personal soundtrack so to speak.

One thing led to another and I soon found myself partnering with this musical protégé. Our joint love for music soon developed into my becoming Pedro’s music manager, the creation of a professional CD of his music, and worldwide exposure on iTunes and other online music sites. That exposure paid off a few months ago when Pedro’s music was noticed by a Spanish film production company. The trailer to Pedro’s debut movie score was released earlier this month. None of this movie business was even a possibility when I booked my flights to Spain, but now in God’s perfect timing, I will be in Spain for the release of his short film, “Thirst for Love”, in July.

The focus of my trip from the start was meeting Rosa and being able to connect with her one-on-one about our mutual experience of losing our mothers—from different parts of the world. I know God will honor and bless us as we take this next step of healing and support in our relationship. We will fumble through our language barrier at first, but I trust our non-verbal communication and love will override those obstacles.

Pedro spent two summers in my home immersed in American culture and language as part of a short term exchange program. In the summer of 2013, it will be my turn to be the exchange student. And I’m going to meet Rosa…. Truly a match made in heaven.

~ Ardis A. Nelson

My Father’s Devotion

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Father and child

My father holding me as a newborn

This blog is about mothers, but today is Father’s Day and I want to affirm the importance and influence of fathers. We wouldn’t be mothers or daughters if it weren’t for fathers!

Daddy preaching on the radio

Daddy preaching on the radio

Here is a passage from my biblical novel, “Face to Face.” The main character, Joakima, is musing about her father. I’m sharing this on Father’s Day because I’m sure I had my own father in mind when I wrote this:

… My father was often called a devout [man]. He would sit at night at his cobbler’s bench while the smell of burning lamp oil permeated the room and the flame cast grotesque dancing shadows on the stone walls, and he would pore over his treasured copy of a portion of the prophet Isaiah. Early mornings he prayed alone on the housetop. He talked quietly with the people who came into his shop during the day. They came as often to see him as to buy his products. Often the men who came troubled and frowning, left looking resolute and calm. It just seemed the natural thing for my father: listening, nodding, speaking a soft word here and there.

And how he prayed! As a little girl, I would tiptoe up the steps to the roof and see him there on his knees, hands raised toward far-away Jerusalem. He fervently repeated the prayers of his fathers. Sometimes I knelt beside him and closed my eyes and tried to say the words with him. He didn’t seem to notice me, so enrapt was he….

(from Chapter Four, Face to Face : A Novel)

~ Catherine Lawton

Relationships Can Be Complicated

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Catherine and her mother

That’s me and Mother (a few years ago!)

In her review on Amazon.com of Journeys to Mother Love, Judy Pex* wrote, “I would recommend this book to any woman because even if we don’t all have daughters, we do all have mothers, and from my personal experience as well as women I speak with, those relationships can often be complicated.”

When it comes to complicated relationships, Judy knows of what she speaks. Growing up Jewish in America, living most of her adult life as a Messianic believer in Israel, raising her children to believe in Yeshua (Jesus) while they attended Israeli schools and then served in the Israeli army, hosting travelers from all over the world in the hostel she and her husband, John, run. Worshiping with and caring for people from many different cultural and language backgrounds. Working with refugees. All kinds of opportunities for complicated relationships (which she navigates with grace)!

Especially fraught with opportunities for complications is the mother/child relationship, and most especially the mother/daughter relationship. Why is that?

I’m going to list some thoughts off the top of my head about what might cause those complications:

1. Perhaps mothers try to re-live their lives through their daughters. And perhaps daughters see themselves or their potential selves in their mothers, and they may or may not like what they see.

2. Unrealistic expectations.

3. Emotional dependence.

4. The need to (and not always managing to) really listen and view your daughter – or mother – as a unique individual in her own right.

I’m sure there are many more contributing factors. Maybe our readers can add their thoughts about why this mother/daughter relationship can – and often does – become so complicated.

~ Catherine Lawton

*Judy (Judith Galblum Pex) is the author of Walk the Land: A Journey on Foot through Israel and A People Tall and Smooth: Stories of Escape from Sudan to Israel.

Role-Reversal and Emotional Baggage

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Loritta Slayton

Loritta, author of the story “White Knuckles”

Loritta Slayton tells another story of mother-daughter role reversal.

“Little by little,” Loritta says, “more of those decisions that limited Mom’s independence were required…. Quite independent her entire life, this change was hard for her. I found it challenging to lead in the face of her resistance and frustration. I hated the friction it caused.”

Loritta’s upbringing wasn’t characterized by warm or demonstrative affection and trust. White-knuckled anger took hold of Loritta as the responsibility for her aging mother (and then her mother-in-law as well!) fell to her. Loritta says, “Mom had ways of bringing out my lack of patience…. I had emotional baggage to deal with and I didn’t know how.”

Loritta’s story, “White Knuckles,” is the last story in the book, Journeys to Mother Love, for a reason. She has a strong testimony of relational healing that hinged on forgiveness toward her mother and obedience to the Lord. The conclusion to her story makes a fitting conclusion to the entire book:

“And so I hope that you, the reader, will be encouraged to give God permission to loosen your fingers from any ‘white-knuckled’ grip. May you be encouraged to say, ‘yes.’ May you experience the joy of finding freedom in any relationship where you’ve let your emotions rule over your heart and life. … Don’t wait. Give God permission now and start your journey to freedom and love.”

Thank you, Loritta, for your example to us of honesty and courage and faith.

~Catherine Lawton

Through all the Changes Life Brings, Mother is the “Glue”

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Kerry Luksic

Kerry Luksic had a great relationship with her mother. Her mother had always been the strong, capable, “sharp dynamo who raised thirteen kids.” Then her mother got Alzheimer’s and their roles began to reverse. In Journeys to Mother Love Kerry shares her journey of accepting the changes in her mother and realizing that her mother’s love for her hadn’t changed.

Her story, “Finding the Blessings in Alzheimer’s,” takes us on the emotional roller coaster of a daughter dealing with Alzheimer’s disease in her mother. Then she concludes:

“It’s true that dealing with Mom’s Alzheimer’s disease hasn’t killed me. In fact, it has made me stronger. It has reinvigorated my perspective to appreciate every day, since you never know what lies ahead. It’s true that things could be worse with Mom. She could have died years ago or her illness could have progressed at an even faster rate than it has. I know several women who have lost their mothers and it’s one of the hardest things to get through in life. The loss of a mother leaves a permanent hole in your heart and can tear families to shreds. Mothers are the glue of most families….

“Even though Mom no longer knows who I am, she shows immense delight when I visit her and still recognizes the love between us…. I believe it’s through Mom’s life lessons that I have the strength to accept her fate and the role reversal the disease imposes. Mom’s lifelong mantras, ‘You don’t give up, you offer it up; you look at the bright side of life; you put your head down and just keep going’ are a constant part of who I am.”

Thank you, Kerry, for sharing your story with us, and for the reminder that mothers are often the “glue” of their families. As a mother, through all the changes life brings in myself and in my children, I pray God will help me to be “good glue.”

~Catherine Lawton

Grace to Broken Mamas on Mother’s Day

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Mother's Day card from a child

I was cleaning my kitchen and an image of the upcoming Mother’s Day flashed in my mind. I pictured myself alone. By myself. No kids. No husband. Just me. It felt refreshing. Of course this mental image came right after all three of my children came in like a swarm of bees buzzing around me with, “Mama, can I have?” “Mama, can you get me?” “Mama! He hit me!” A constant buzz of wants, cries, and whines.

I pulled out a snack to calm these kiddos of mine. Looking at them sitting quietly (only because they had a mouth full of cocoa puffs), I resumed reality. I do want my Mother’s Day to be a celebration—more for the sake of my children, because I remember when I was a little girl excited to celebrate my mom. I would present her with the best handmade card ever created. Every year I gleamed with pride as I held out the pink construction paper fashioned into a fabulous declaration of “# 1 Mom!”. My mother accepted it with a smile, knowing that no matter how shaky my 5-year-old handwriting was, or how my crayon meant to draw a kitty cat that instead looked like a flat turtle with pointy ears, she loved it. I’m sure the idea of propping her feet up with a good book crossed her mind, but she always celebrated with her daughter instead.

Mother’s Day is a celebration. No matter how my relationship was with my mom, she decided to keep me, nurture me the best she could, and, simply, be my mom. I love her for that. And I thank God for knowing my mom would be the one for me.

Often times on the days when I feel so overwhelmed being a mother myself, I will hear an encouraging message reminding me of how God hand-picked me to be the mother of three creative, caring, spicy kids. They stretch my patience, my mind, and even my skin (as evident of the marks on my thighs!) But they also widen my heart and tame my selfishness.

I now understand my mom’s smile as she held the Mother’s Day card I made for her. She liked the card, sure; but she saw beyond the scribble. She saw a child, her child, drawing a different view of the world for her—a world that offered grace to a broken mama.

My sweet babies show me grace every day by wrapping their arms around me or cupping my face and saying, “I love you, Mama.”

Now that’s worth celebrating!

~Treva Brown

God Knows the Desires Of Your Heart

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Violets in the gardenAs an adoptive mom, Mother’s Day brings many emotions. For years before my husband and I adopted children, I dreaded Mother’s Day. It reminded me of what I wanted and did not have. Even now, 8 years since we adopted our first child, I can still remember those feelings with surprising freshness. Infertility or barrenness is a difficult road to walk. Most young women assume motherhood will be a part of their life experience. When God has other plans, the shock and despair can be overwhelming. Given this, I thought it might be helpful to share how God helped me navigate this emotional mine field.

After my cancer and hysterectomy, I considered many options and struggled with much fear. My husband and I discussed surrogacy, adoption, foster care, and remaining childless. Many well-meaning friends tried to convince me that not having kids wasn’t such a bad thing, especially my friends with teenagers. Their warnings fell on deaf ears, however. I knew that my life would simply not be complete without children.

Four years later, with considerable pain, after deciding on adoption and still being without a child, I finally had to ask the question I dreaded: “Lord, do you not want me to have children?” What if He said “yes”? How could I reframe my life into a world that didn’t include children? It seemed impossible to me. And yet, I still had to ask. What I heard that day began to change my perspectives. In a still, small voice within my heart I heard, “Wait upon me and I will give you the desires of your heart.”

Wait…..  Okay Lord, but isn’t that what I have been doing? Four years of waiting is a long time. What am I waiting for? Or better yet, what are YOU waiting for? Are you waiting on me?

Then one day God led me to 1 Samuel 1:1-20 and the story of Hannah. Barren and brokenhearted, Hannah was blinded by her grief. She had the love of her husband, his preference, in fact, over his other wife Penninnah who had given him children. Indeed, one day when Hannah was weeping, her husband asked her, “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than 10 sons?” (1 Samuel 1:8). Hannah’s  despair over being childless kept her from enjoying the blessings God had given her.

I realized I had been like Hannah, so consumed over the desire to be a mother that the sadness over what I wanted and did not have kept me from enjoying the good in my life, and there was so much good! I realized I had to surrender my will to God, believing his promise that if he chose not to make me a mother, he would fulfill the desires of my heart some other way. I started to see how God could provide spiritual children, a ministry, a career or so many other things that would fulfill my heart. I just needed to trust Him with my hopes and dreams.

Not long after that, the call finally came and a few months later we brought home a beautiful baby girl. I think God had been waiting for me to take that leap of faith and let go of my plans for my life. So if this Mother’s Day brings the pain of childlessness, let me encourage you to trust God with the desires of your heart. He may choose to bless you with children or He may choose to bless you in other ways. He made your heart and put your deepest desires there. He knows what will make you truly happy.

~ Kyleen Stevenson-Braxton

I Don’t Know About Tomorrow

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Cosmos flowers against a blazing sunset

Mother’s Day is always on a Sunday, and many of my memories of my mother happened on Sundays at church. I practically grew up in church. Often on Sunday mornings, from my perch on a front pew, I’d watch Mother rise from the piano bench to stand behind the pulpit and minister in song with her beautiful soprano voice.

Mother would give a brief testimony of God’s sustaining grace in her life, then convey the music and words of the song with a such a sweet spirit that hearts were softened and prepared to receive Daddy’s biblical message. As Mother sang, she’d often lift one hand in testimony to the words of the song, because she was finding them true in her own life. That was certainly the case when she sang one of her favorites: “I Know Who Holds Tomorrow.”

In Journeys to Mother Love I shared briefly about the fire that burned our house down in the middle of the night when I was four years old, and the resulting trauma I experienced, as well as God’s wonderful provision and healing. I didn’t have space in the book to tell more background of how the Lord prepared Mother for that trial and assured her of his love and presence even as we walked through the flames.

The night of the fire our parents had taken my little sister and me with them to a campmeeting service. In that service a soloist stood and sang a wonderful new song with such anointing that throughout the auditorium people wiped tears from their eyes. Mother was deeply touched and, as she went to sleep that night, the words of the song rang in her mind as if God himself were speaking them to her:

I don’t know about tomorrow; I just live from day to day.

I don’t borrow from its sunshine, for its skies may turn to gray.

I don’t worry o’er the future, for I know what Jesus said;

And today I’ll walk beside Him, for He knows what is ahead.

… And the path that is my portion may be through the flame or flood;

But His presence goes before me, and I’m covered with His blood.

Many things about tomorrow I don’t seem to understand;

But I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.

–words and music by Ira F. Stanphill

Later that night, the one who grabbed my hand and held it tight as we fled fearfully through the burning house was my mother. And the One who held her hand, and had given her an assurance of that only a few hours earlier, was her heavenly Father.

I’m glad Mother was there in my childhood and youth. The One who walked beside her knew about the cancer and suffering and death that lay ahead for her. He knew we would lose her so young. But what she experienced and testified to and taught us continues to hold true for me as I move into uncertainties of my older years: He knows! He holds tomorrow in His hands. And He will continue to hold my hand.

~ Cathy Lawton

Always a Mother

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Zinnias

My children rarely ask for my advice, and I don’t give it anymore unless they ask. It’s been hard for me to stop offering unsolicited opinions, but I finally realized they’re not needed. My son and daughter are fully capable adults, managing their own lives very well without my input. As a result of withholding my opinions, there’s less interpersonal friction among us, a pleasant side benefit.

Lately, it’s been my turn to ask their opinions. I value what they have to say because they’re more in touch with what’s going on in the world, have logical reasons for their answers and can give me advice on any number of subjects, especially technology. They don’t seem to mind giving me advice; in fact, I think they like doing it.

That’s not to say I don’t try to keep up with change, because I believe that’s my responsibility. Still, the pace of change is so fast, I feel like I’m always running to catch up! Does it seem that way to you, too, or is that my age talking?

Looking forward, it’s possible I may get to the point where a decision has to be made about my future. I’ve done what I can to prepare for it, but sometimes life takes unexpected turns. If it becomes necessary for them to make decisions for me, I can trust them to do the right thing. They have good hearts and a solid foundation in Christ. And I honestly don’t worry about what might happen to me, because my children are good friends as well as being my brother and sister in Christ.

There is one way I can still be helpful, though, and that’s when we’re discussing Christian living. Then they are open to hearing what I have to say. They understand spiritual formation is a life-long process. Only because I’ve lived longer and had more years of growing in God do I possess wisdom that comes from experience. Sharing that knowledge with my children is perhaps the most valuable thing I can give them. Of course, I learn from them, too.

Philippians 1:21-26* confirms the value of adding to my children’s faith and maturity in Christ. Yes, it will be wonderful to experience the fullness of Christ’s presence death brings. But I’d rather remain and pass on what they need to know, in ways they can understand and apply to their own lives. If that sounds like a parent talking, then I admit it. I’m still their mother and always will be.

*For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor, yet what I shall choose, I cannot tell (do not know). For (but) I am hard pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you.  And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith, that your rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again” (Phil. 1:21-26, NKJ).

~ Ellen Cardwell

Is Mother’s Day Painful for You?

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flowers

How many of us, if we were really honest, would admit that we don’t look forward to Mother’s Day? We dread this day devoted to celebrating mothers. It conjures up feelings of inadequacies in our own parenting or maybe how we didn’t live up to the expectations our parents had for us. Maybe it even reminds us of the shame or condemnation we felt at the hands of our parents—especially our mothers.

Mother’s Day isn’t always about bouquets of flowers or a box of chocolates for mom. Sometimes it is filled with bitter memories of a childhood loss due to abusive parents, a longing for the birth mother we never knew, or regrets from things we said or did that can’t be taken back. Maybe your mother has died and you miss her presence in your life.

Those kinds of painful memories can also leave us questioning God or turning our back on him. Ultimately, I think, Mother’s Day can leave us yearning for something more.

What is that something more? It is the filling of the hole in our heart left by unforgiveness and broken dreams. How do we fill it? Maybe we turn to alcohol, drugs or sexual fantasizing; or maybe it is to acceptable forms of addictions like busyness and people pleasing—whatever it takes to make the ache go away. Haven’t we all done it or experienced it to some degree?

To all of you daughters and mothers who are in a painful place this Mother’s Day, I empathize with you; for I used to be there too. Don’t give up hope. “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, NIV).

We can choose how we want to react to all of these circumstances. We can choose to walk in the light and hope of Christ, or we can choose to walk in the doom and gloom of the past. The past doesn’t need to define us. We have a choice.

As believers, we belong to the family of God, the body of Christ. If we don’t have a mother who bonded with us or nurtured us in loving ways, we can still get that kind of nurturing from our spiritual family and friends. Our family of birth does not have to define us. It is Christ and the family of God that define our identity.

Every day can be a day to celebrate mothers, if we view it from God’s perspective. Choose joy.

Dear brothers and sisters, I close my letter with these last words: Be joyful. Grow to maturity. Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you (2 Corinthians 13:11, NLT).

~ Ardis A. Nelson

A Gift of Flowers

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Purple tulips with card

My sweet mother has been gone from her home on earth for more than forty years, but I still think of her every spring about this time. For several reasons: first my birthday is towards the last of April and that day years ago Mother gave me life. Also, even though she already had four living children and couldn’t afford another, she gave me love and nurturing. And, of course, Mother’s Day is coming up soon.

But more importantly, I think of Mother because spring is the planting season. Mother taught me the love of gardening and how to plant each seed, each bulb and each small, rooted plant. She showed me the way to clip cuttings from geraniums and roses and other plants to start new growth, thereby having a cheap way to multiply beautiful flowers and shrubs.

I recall the first day in early spring when I drove the few blocks to Mother’s house and together we spent the morning browsing in a nearby nursery looking to buy tomato plants. Mother reminded me my birthday would be soon and said she wanted to buy me a gift of flowers that were already in bloom, that I could plant in the yard. A lovely present that lasted all summer! I chose red salvia and a blue flower (I don’t recall the name). Usually I planted seeds and had to wait for blooms. The luxury of immediately having plants in bud or full bloom thrilled me.

When Mother’s Day arrived I gathered a pretty bouquet and presented them to Mother. And so the ritual between us was started. I am happy to say it continued for many happy years. Mother lived to be almost ninety-three and continued to garden on a small scale until about two years before her death.

To this day I enjoy digging in the dirt. It is difficult for me to stoop, so I have purchased large pots I can use outdoors. When spring comes each year I rejoice in the new life of the birds and I never fail to think of my mother and the joy she brought into my life with the love of gardening. I only hope she can look down and share the happiness with me this year. I am passing on the love she taught me to my great-grandson, and I think that as long as the earth stands and plants grow, my mother will not be forgotten.

In a few days I’ll say again this year, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mother. I LOVE YOU!”

~ Verna Simms

Filling the Jar with Rocks

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 Rocks in a Jar

Ever since my “invest in people” nudge from the Lord referenced in “Walking My Mother Home,” I’ve paid more attention to those little nudges. Following that first nudge has led to dramatic changes in my life including my friendship with Rosa, Pedro’s mother, and my one-on-one investing in others who God puts on my path.

This is the story of a recent people investment that had profound results.

I was pleasantly surprised a few weeks ago when I got a call from Sandra, a new friend my husband and I met at a marriage workshop we recently attended in California. My surprise turned to sadness when I heard her brother had passed away. Sandra had dropped everything to fly to Washington State to see him before he died. On that short trip she hadn’t had time to meet with me, but would be back in town for the memorial service.

A few weeks passed and I was surprised to see that the memorial service was scheduled at the country club a mile from my house. Initially Sandra had hoped we would connect over a cup of coffee, but her time was filled with family obligations. That was perfectly understandable.

Regardless of that, I knew I would go to the memorial service. I didn’t know Sandra’s brother. I didn’t know her family. I barely knew her. Yet after an intensive weekend together in couples’ counseling sessions, we already had a heart connection. I didn’t consider not going.

After hugs on my arrival, she seated me next to a relative and bravely took her position up front with the immediate family. As the service started, I felt a nudge to record the proceedings. That isn’t totally out of character for me. My digital recorder is an indispensable tool for my writing. I didn’t really give it a second thought.

Family members read letters filled with sweet stories and memories of Sandra’s brother. The chaplain shared a story (author unknown) about sand, pebbles and rocks filling up a jar. The point of the metaphor was that the rocks are the important things in our lives—the people and things we can’t replace—and that we should make them a priority. If we fill our lives (the jar) with the unimportant things in life (the sand and pebbles) we won’t have room for the rocks. It was a fitting reflection to end the service.

When Sandra and I connected after the service, she mentioned how disappointed she was that her elderly mother couldn’t attend the service. She so wanted to have the service recorded but there were family objections to that.

“Really? That’s so sad,” I said. I felt goosebumps as I remembered I had recorded the service. I confessed my transgression to her. She was thrilled and started to cry. Sandra proceeded to tell me how anxious she had been about that for the past few weeks. My recording was answered prayer for her. It was a kiss from above and a reminder of God’s amazing love for us.

Sandra and I stole some time together on the deck of the clubhouse overlooking the golf course, basking in the warmth of the sun. We caught up on our lives, prayed for each other and reflected on how perfectly God had filled our jars on that very day with what was truly important—time together and the simple gift of following a nudge to invest in people.

What are you filling your jar with?

~ Ardis A. Nelson

Journeying Together: A Group Interview

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Meadow-flowers-sillouette copy
All nine of us participated in this group interview, answering questions posed by Christina Slike, marketing director at Cladach Publishing. We’ve enjoyed getting to know each other better through this process, and so, we hope, will our readers.

INTERVIEW

 

1. Did you laugh or cry, or both, while you were writing your story?a pink butterfly

Ellen Cardwell: Surprisingly, I didn’t do either. Rather, writing the story released something inside that needed to come out. I feel lighter now whenever Mom comes to mind.

Treva Brown: I completely did both. I also felt anger, but was able to fully release it quickly.

Ardis Nelson: I went away to a secluded camp so I could focus on writing and prayer. I cried at times. Now my tears are tears of joy.

Kerry Luksic: In writing this story, I had plenty of tears. My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s eight years ago. It was hard to accept that there’s no cure and that it’s progressive–Mom would only get worse through each heartbreaking stage. But in sharing this story, the tears I shed were healing for me.

Loritta Slayton: I don’t think I did either, but I felt the emotions again–the upset, the struggle and the joy of what God accomplished in me that I couldn’t do for myself.

Kyleen Stevenson-Braxton: I always cry when I write about God’s grace in giving me two beautiful adopted children. It reminds me afresh of his mercy and love.

a pink butterfly2. What do you especially relate to in one or more of the other women’s stories? 

A.R. (Alice) Cecil: I can relate to all the other authors in JOURNEYS TO MOTHER LOVE. We all found the only way to healing is through Jesus Christ, and we all want to help others by sharing our experience.

Catherine Lawton: Treva Brown tells of how her mother died even younger than mine did (and by much more violent circumstances). I relate to her regret over some of the words she had said to her mother, and wishing she had said certain other words before it was too late.

Ellen: The last part of Loritta Slayton’s story, “White Knuckles,” took me back to when my mother needed my help and our roles were reversed. God encouraged and enabled her to let go of hurt feelings and journey down the path to love.

Treva: In “Walking My Mother Home” Ardis Nelson wrote, “I was embracing the parts of my mother that were in me.” I am currently doing that now, so it really touched my heart.

Ardis: I think I was the most moved by Loritta’s story. I felt her pain with each decision she made along her journey with her mother. The ending to her story was a fitting ending to the book—very encouraging.

Loritta: The emotional process of their hurts being released to God and their journeys of walking it out with Him speak to me. I was moved by Treva’s descriptions of this process.

a pink butterfly  3. In what point in your relationship with your mother or child did you realize you needed relational healing?

Alice: My mother was always closer to me than any of her other children; I sensed her unhappiness and wanted to try to be there for her. Then in my early twenties I left home for the city to work. Transported into the world, I began to see not all the ways in my childhood home matched the ordinary way of going about life.

Catherine: The need in my heart became evident when I was going through grief over my mother’s death. As you can read in the book, the Lord has ways of healing our relationships even when separated by distance, disease or death.

Ellen: When I was a new Christian and learned how important it was to forgive others. Also at that time, the relationship with our mothers was a topic of discussion with my close friends, all of whom felt they had emotional gaps that their parents, especially their mothers, hadn’t filled.

Treva: Years after she died. It was a hard journey because I was unable to talk to my mom and hear her respond. But I wouldn’t change a thing, for that is where I truly encountered God.

Loritta: I knew most of my life that it wasn’t what it should be. But when I read A Daughter’s Journey Home, by Dr. Linda Mintle, some of the pieces of the puzzle came into focus. I began to pray about my relationship with my mother and ask God to work in us. And my journaling with God and the listening practice opened the door significantly.

4. What makes the mother/child relationship so significant? a pink butterfly

Ardis: I think the mother/child relationship is a mirror of the love our heavenly father has for us.

Kerry: I never realized until I had my own children, but at the end of the day, a mother’s love for a child is the strongest bond that exists.

Kyleen: I think that, since I wanted children and was unable to have them, it has made me appreciate what so many women take for granted. I envy the blessings of being pregnant, of giving birth, of seeing your features in your child’s face, of knowing they came from your body. But God has taught me that he is the maker of families, and I am blessed knowing that Jesus, too, was adopted (by Joseph). So my children are to me the very face of God. To me they represent all that he is – his goodness, kindness, and love.

5. What events, sensory experiences, etc., trigger your memories of a pink butterflyyour mother?

Catherine: My mother had a quip, saying, or song for every situation or occasion, it seemed. Those sayings and songs pop into my head often and remind me of her. I still “hear” her voice.

Ellen: Going to the farmer’s market, smelling apple pies baking … sewing, bringing flowers into the house … Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.

Treva: A certain Dolly Parton song, camping and eating spaghetti. My mom loved spaghetti.

Ardis: This may sound strange, but I think I am most reminded of my mother in my writing and speaking opportunities. I feel that she would be proud of me for who I am finally becoming, and that gives me a great sense of her presence with me. In a way, this makes up for not having her there when I was young.

Loritta: She enjoyed flowers and colors in shades of purples, aquas, violets. Just this week I walked past orchids in the grocery store that are tinted in those tones and thought of her.

6. Do you ever see your mom in yourself?  a pink butterfly

Catherine: Every time I make the choice and the effort to be positive, to engage with other people when I feel like pulling away … I think of my mother who modeled those attitudes to me.

Ellen: Yes. She had an authoritative way of speaking. She would make pronouncements (not always based on facts), pontificate, and discourage discussion. I still find myself sounding like her, even though I’ve tried for years to overcome it. When I notice myself doing the same thing, it lets me know how ingrained her attitudes were/are in me. I feel frustrated that it’s still there inside my personality. Then I’m motivated to revisit my efforts to change and make it more of a priority to do so.

Treva: At times I do. I used to despise it. But God was able to bring me to a place of embracing those characteristics and bring me more understanding of my mom.

Verna Hill Simms: I remind myself of Mother every time I sit in the living room and watch for the mail carrier. Mail means a lot to me as it did to her.

Ardis: This question hits to the core area of my personal healing when my mother died. I was able to integrate and embrace the parts of my mother that I had been rejecting all my life. Thanks to the Lord’s work in me, I am no longer embarrassed by our similarities.

Kerry: Yes. I especially see my mom in myself when I’m faced with a tough challenge. My mom never gave up on anything and she leaned on her faith during the hardest times. When I’m going through a tough time, I think of mom and follow her example. Whenever I feel like life is a bit too hard, I remember my mom’s example and immediately feel stronger.

7. In what way is mother love a journey?   a pink butterfly

Alice: I wonder how God would have brought me along without children! I know there are people who do not have children and who have a deep relationship with God, but God knew I needed children!

Ellen: For me, mother love grew from an unrealistic ideal to a reality based on experience. Each stage of our children’s growth, from elementary school to junior high to high school has challenges of its own. As I journeyed along with my children, my love was tested, strengthened and developed through the ups and downs they experienced. My love grew from the tenderest feelings for our infants to caring for their needs while juggling other responsibilities, to tough love as they tested boundaries. Mother love survived the smooth and rocky places along the path because, I believe, it originates in God’s love for us all.

Ardis: I am seeing this theme poignantly in my life now. Just today I had a conversation with my 15 year old son about this. We had connecting time while attending a doctor’s appointment. I didn’t have any of that with my parents. I am embracing the journey of learning how to mother anew, be a “sister” to Rosa, an “aunt” to Pedro, and a daughter to my stepmother. This journey is connecting me with my heart and allowing me to share it with others.

Kerry: Mother love is a journey because life is a journey. There are ups and there are downs; there are moments of joy and moments of sheer pain; but through all of it, love is the foundation. My mom has progressed to the advanced-stage of Alzheimer’s and this is the final destination in our journey. Alzheimer’s is a heartbreaking disease, but I have peace knowing that at the end of my mom’s journey here on earth, she will be rewarded for her lifetime of love. faith, and determination–the gift of Heaven.

Loritta: You can’t understand everything from one vantage point. You have to climb that mountain and look back sometimes, and other times you just have to put your hand in God’s and let Him talk to you about what you need to know that only He can reveal in a way that you can receive.

Kyleen: Learning to love unconditionally, to bring out the best in your children, to be their cheerleader and to guide them with kindness is not always easy, especially when your own relationship with your mother was strained. Still, it is a noble and worthy endeavor. This is the journey God asks us to take as mothers.

All the authors and their stories

The Law of Love

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"Death Was Cheated" - newspaper clipping

Ellen Cardwell, a “miracle” baby “born” after her mother died

Is the pre-born baby a “person” created by God with a soul that will live forever? Two of the stories in Journeys to Mother Love touch on this subject.

Ellen Cardwell shares the story of how her mother died suddenly while taking a Sunday afternoon stroll when she was pregnant full-term with Ellen. A popular attitude of the times was that the unborn baby should be left to die with the mother. A caring doctor, though, performed an emergency operation on the deceased mother and took the baby out, resuscitating her to life. The story appeared on the front page of the Oakland Tribune (see photo above).

For Ellen, the mother/child relational healing she experienced later, had to do with relating to and forgiving her stepmother, who had led Ellen to believe she was her birth mother.

In another memoir included in Journeys to Mother Love, Kyleen Stevenson-Braxton tells how, as a frightened, pregnant college student, she chose abortion—and then the resulting emotional pain, cancer, and barrenness she experienced when, in a loving marriage, she longed for children.

The mother/child healing aspect of Kyleen’s story had to do with her “relationship” with the unborn, aborted child who she came to think of as a person with a name; with her relationship with her stepchild; and with her own need to forgive herself.

These are both powerful stories. They show how important to God is every person he creates. And though we are called “mortal beings” because our bodies will die, there is a part of us that will not die. These stories also show that we are each individuals but tied together with bonds stronger than death.

When it comes to personhood and abortion, I believe we should vote and work for just and biblical laws. But I also believe that man’s law and God’s law are not the same. It is a worthy goal to want man’s laws to be based on God’s laws. But it is not the main goal. Jesus said that he came to fulfill the law. And he said that the greatest commandment was to love (see Matthew 22:37-39). When we love God with all our heart, soul, and mind, we also love what he has created.

I’m thankful the doctor in Oakland, California honored God and the life he created when he allowed Ellen to be “born”; and I’m thankful for the love and forgiveness the Lord has given Ellen for her mother and stepmother, and for the hope she has of fellowship with them in Heaven.

I’m also thankful that God the Father welcomes into his presence the babies aborted and robbed of a life on earth. And he has shown his love for Kyleen by giving to her children to adopt and love as well as peace concerning the child conceived in her own body, whom she anticipates meeting face to face in Heaven.

The second part of Jesus’ great commandment is that we “love our neighbors as ourselves.” When we live by that law of love — and see our mothers and our children as our “neighbors” — our stories are transformed.

~Catherine Lawton

THE BLESSING COMES BACK

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"Songs of Innocence"

A hand-colored illustration by William Blake to accompany his poem “Songs of Innocence,” published in 1789

(A Poem)

Naively, I thought that the innocent babe in my arms
would always be mine to hold.
The child who ran to me with an injured knee
was completely content to receive my comfort.
I thought that I had all the answers.
Now I cling to the memory of that window of time
when I was able to show you a mother’s
humble attempt at sharing love, values, and beliefs.

In your mind, you have closed childhood’s door. As a result,
you are a million miles away.
It seems as if I cannot reach you.
All my words bounce back to me,
like balls in a game.
Are you playing games with me now
that you are taller than me?
Your contemplative silence feels like a game to me.

In your adulthood, you have become someone else.
Who is this person, who stands before me?
I—who bore you, fed you, trained you—
shouldn’t I have some say?
But, here you stand before me; you are your own person.
And I must wonder: other than bringing you
into the world and helping you grow physically,
what role did I play?

The circumstances of your life moved you
many miles away.
I cannot hug you.
Every day I wonder: What are you doing?
Who are you meeting? Helping?
Where is your life taking you?
Did you think this through
when you let distance determine our destinies?
Do you, like me, reminisce about the good ole days when we
lived in sweet simplicity?

You stand before me; you are a fully-orbed individual.
Your thoughts are laid out for me
like building blocks of all that is noble and true.
Your heart pours out with rivers of love,
which are far greater than the stream
that was mine to give.
I am blessed beyond measure to be your mother.

~ Alice Cecil

(Note: The narrator is one of many mothers who knows God’s grace on her journey.)