A Mothers’ Heart

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      “The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” – Exodus 33:14

In my last blog I wrote of restlessness and change, and since then, I have found out, that once again, we are moving. I have always told my husband that if he had the opportunity to work in Atlanta, then he wouldn’t even have to ask me; I was there, because I want to be a Georgia Peach. I love to read, some of my favorite authors write about the South, it is filled with history and charm, and people from there seem so darn friendly. Never mind that I have never been to Atlanta, except to change planes in the airport (what a harrowing experience), or to drive through the state of Georgia on the way to Florida a time or two.  Over the years, my husband has told me time and time again, when we’ve had this fictional, moving to Atlanta conversation ,  that I can’t possible become a Georgia Peach, because I am a Canadian, and I don’t understand what I am talking about.  There is a culture difference between people from the South and people from the North, that I don’t understand, apparently.  People (from the North) keep telling me that, whenever I tell them that we are moving.  I do think I have a vague idea about it, and I am sure I will come to understand more as time goes on, because now that fictional conversation has become real.  Somehow I knew it in my bones; I knew I would live in Atlanta someday, and it will happen as soon as we tie up the loose ends here in Minnesota and just go.

This is a different move for our family, because we won’t be taking our children with us, and why would we?  They are grown now and have begun lives of their own.  They have jobs and friends that tie them to this community and this state, and we are the ones severing the cords and pulling away.  It seems backwards to me when I think of it.  Aren’t children the ones who are supposed to move away from home, not parents? When I wrote about change in my last blog post, a friend of mine suggested my angst might be caused by God calling me closer to Him.  I have to confess, I had an idea that  my husband was contemplating a change of some kind that might take us away from our children and that created some unrest and anxiety for me.

Will they be okay without us?  Have we prepared them adequately to survive without us in the same state?  These are the questions that are haunting me as I prepare in other ways for our move; as I have painters and floor guys come and give me estimates for our house to prepare to sell it, and as I study in preparation for out of state licensing exams, so I can work outside of the state of Minnesota. With so  many things to do it is hard for me to focus  on one thing at a time.  I should be studying or sleeping, and I am blogging.  Yesterday when I washed my face, instead of a facial toner, I used nail polish remover on my face.  It was quite uncomfortable.  I don’t recommend it.

As I think of all of these things and prepare for our move, I pray and I remember a visit with my sister.  She was visiting me  and we went shopping together in the Mall of America. My sister loves jewelry, and when she can, she enjoys buying pieces of jewelry to splurge and to pamper herself when she is on vacation, or on a trip away from home.  She had bought herself a pendant for a necklace, made of blue glass, shaped like a heart.  It was rather large and pretty, but totally unlike anything I would ever wear, because it had my sister’s name written all over it.  She and I are quite different when it comes to our tastes, as most sisters are, I imagine.  At the end of our weekend visit together, my sister told me, in no uncertain terms, that she felt very strongly that she was to leave the pendant with me.  It was mine, she said.  Over the course of the weekend, I had shared with her some of the angst of my motherhood, and she told me that this pendant represented my mothers’ heart, and it was for me.  Now , you have to understand.  My sister LOVES jewelry, and when she bought this pendant for herself, she really wanted it.  When she gave it to me, she really thought I should have it; it was a God thing.  My sister is not a mother; and for her to think of this was a little uncanny to say the least.  I strung a ribbon through the pendant and hung it on my bedroom wall.  When I see it, I think of my sister and her tender heart as I pray for my kids.

I know in my Mothers’ Heart, as I pray for my kids, that moving is the  right thing for our family, and He will care for each one of us.  I am reminded of the story of Hannah praying for God’s blessing, because she was barren, and couldn’t have a child.  Finally, God blessed her and she gave birth to Samuel, and then right after Samuel was weaned, she turned around and brought him to the temple so that he could be trained by the priest Eli to serve God.  It was quite a sacrifice for a mother to give.  While Samuel was away from his mom at the temple, he learned to listen to the still, small voice of God, and he became a mighty voice for Him.  This story has been ringing in my heart, and maybe, God has something to say to my kids without me buzzing around getting in their business.  I have to let go of them and cut the apron strings.  That’s pretty hard for me because I like control, and I will miss them in my daily happenings.   So…maybe my friend was right.  Perhaps God can use this restlessness to draw all of us closer to Him.

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” Ephesians 3:20

Blessed Release…I Am Not In Control

image“The more often he feels without acting, the less he will be able ever to act, and, in the long run, the less he will be able to feel.”–C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

Sometimes I feel very strongly the things that I must do, whether it is to give someone an encouraging word; whether it is to write something down for others to read; or whether it is simply to knit something for someone, and pray for that person while I am knitting it. When this urge  to do these things comes upon me, I cannot describe it any other way, except to say that I must do it , or suffer all sorts of unrest and anxiety. In my younger days, it was quite simple really.  I just followed this God-thing within me. As I’ve grown older, it has become easier to second guess myself and wonder what it is that compels me to be this way, instead of just doing what I know is required. I have felt a need to have all things, by outward appearances anyway, in order first, before proceeding with anything else.  I have also come to a place in life where it has been difficult for me to listen to the promptings within me, for fear of being misunderstood, or mislabeled.

In the mid nineties, DC Talk was a popular Christian band and also one of my favorite musical groups. One particular album of theirs, “Jesus Freak”, was one that I played over and over , and over again, in the cassette deck of my car, as I drove to and from work. I loved that song, “Jesus Freak”.  I was not ashamed of those words, and I wanted the world to know. I even had a bracelet, fashioned from a leather strap, with a metal plate on it with the label “Jesus Freak” stamped in it.  I wore it proudly, and I hoped passers-by would see it and wonder. I’m sure they did.  I’m sure they saw it , and wondered.  I think  If my husband had let me, I would have driven around with a fish bumper sticker on my car; I was THAT devoted.

Things were so very black and white for me. I had a very clear idea of what I thought was right and wrong, and I didn’t question what was taught from the church pulpit. I was a Sunday school teacher, I prayed for my own children  daily, and read books with titles like “How to Raise Godly Children”. I was sure that if I did all the “right” things, my life would turn out perfectly and God would continue to pour out His blessings upon me.

Since then, life’s circumstances have taught me that people will indeed disappoint me, and because of this, I have had to deal with more anger, bitterness, and resentment than I thought it was possible for me to own.  I have become a little less sure of myself and I am not as eager to share my thoughts with others.  Sometimes I worry that I cannot follow through with the things God requires of me, and the lyrics of one of the  other songs DC Talk used to sing ruminates in my head : ” What if I stumble , what if I fall?  What if I lose my way and I make fools of us all?”

I recently had a conversation with a close friend who happens to be a Registered Nurse. We were talking about suffering from the effects of anxiety,  and she told me about a website, Anxietynetwork.com, where I read about ANTs, which are Automatic Negative Thoughts. This is an actual psychological term for something that I think I deal with quite often. Who knew there was a real term for the  angst going on inside my head?  Anyway…for some people it’s common to have a negative thought and to beat yourself up about it , and then not follow through with anything good that you may feel led to do because of these negative thoughts.  I am oversimplifying this whole process, but this happens, and apparently, I am not alone. 

I am by nature a worrier.  I cause myself all sorts of unnecessary angst because of it.  Some dear friends of mine recommended a daily reading , “Jesus Calling” by Sarah Young, which I started in the New Year.  It has helped me to enjoy the peace He offers in His Presence. It is Lovely. It is through this process of learning once again, to find peace amidst the turmoil of Life, that I have taken time to reflect and wonder what it is that has happened to me over the course of these years that have gone by. More importantly, despite all of this, I have learned that God is indeed real, but He is not who I thought He was.  He is much more loving and full of grace than I could have  imagined. It is because of His Faithfulness that I am still here, still struggling with Life, but still here, still breathing.  I have relearned Love and Forgiveness, and lyrics like  “Blessings are not just for the ones who kneel” (U2’s City of Blinding Lights),  move me in a way that was not possible before.   I don’t need to worry  people will realize that I am not in control at all.  I had forgotten the rest of the lyrics of the song, “will the love continue when my walk becomes a crawl?  What if  I stumble and what if I fall? I hear You whispering my name. You say My love for You will never change.  You are my comfort and my God.”

It’s totally okay for me to not have all my ducks in a row before I venture out and do the thing that is required of me, whatever that may be.

” The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world.  On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.  We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God , and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” — II Corinthians 10:4-6

Tomorrow Isn’t Promised. Enjoy Today.

image“I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live.  That everyone may eat and drink , and find satisfaction in all his toil–this is the gift of God.”–Ecclesiastes 3:12

It was one of the first warm days of our spring, and here I was , with my arms wrapped around my husband’s waist, perched on the back of his motorcycle, winding along the shores of Lake Minnetonka, with the warm breeze shining on my cheeks, or so I imagined.  I couldn’t really feel the breeze on my face because I had the visor down on my motorcycle helmet . I hadn’t yet  gotten enough nerve to let go with one of my arms in order to  peel the visor back , because I was that terrified.  As I started to realize how glad my husband was to simply have me along for the ride,  I started to relax, and finally enjoy myself.

Years ago, when we were first dating, my husband rode a motorcycle, and I thought that was very daring of him, and yes, I admit it, part of my initial attraction to him.  I used to ride with him on the back of his bike too,  and I don’t remember being afraid.  Youthful innocence, maybe?  When we became engaged, he sold his motorcycle.  I am always quick to point out that it was his decision to sell it , not mine, and that I had nothing to do with it.   In  hindsight, I realize that I had everything to do with it.  What a sacrifice this was for him to make; we were young and didn’t have a lot of money, so he sold his beloved motorcycle in order for us to have a little extra as we began our new life together.

In our household, over the last few years, we have been battling illness; or rather, my husband has been battling illness, so we have been there, battling right beside him.  When things seemed at their worst as far as his health went, I remember reading this verse out of the Psalms to him (147:3) and the promise in it brought us both to tears:

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

After recovering from his illness, and other life’s circumstances that exhausted him in many ways, my husband decided he wanted to embrace life and begin enjoying it again.   Who could blame him?  Certainly not me.  Of course, he decided to buy a motorcycle, and quite frankly, I wish he hadn’t had to wait more than 25 years to start riding again.  I only had one stipulation.  I wouldn’t ever get on the back of that thing with him.  I had become comfortable in my uneventfulness; I was content to Iive in fear of all things related to motorcycles, and I adamantly refused to ride with him.

My husband has enjoyed his motorcycle for two summers now, and whenever the nice weather came, he took his bike out for a spin, and when he came home, he  very gently lamented  that  his only regret was enjoying something so much, and not being able to share it with me.

Of course, this couldn’t go on forever.  Finally, I relented.   I mustered up the courage and I went for a ride with him just a couple of days ago.    We only went for a drive around the lake, and stopped for a cup of coffee.    At some point during our cruise, I realized, it was okay to experience rough times that might cause some fear and anxiety; after all, it’s during these desert times  that God speaks softly to us.  However, it was time for me to let go of my fear and embrace more of what life has to offer.  Later that day, I read my husband’s Facebook status, and this is what he posted:

“Life is short and tomorrow is not promised.  Find something you like to  do and do it today.”

This was a good lesson for me.  I’m going to start enjoying more todays.