Sunday, May 8, 2016

What to do with this Mother's Day Thing

It's Mother's Day. 
My mom and my mother in law reside with the King of all Kings. 
And the one who made me a mom lives there too. 
And I want to cry. 
I want to scream and throw a tantrum. 
It's just not fair. 
I miss my son. 
I miss my mom. 
I miss my mother in law. 
I have much material for a pity party. 
A real "whoa is me bash."

What good is that? 

What is being accomplished?
Jesus himself had much to complain about. 
He was spit on, bruised and crucified as a common criminal. 
Yet not once did he utter anything other than, "Not my will, but thine."

That's how I want to live this life. 
"Not my will, but thine."

I don't do this life well. 
I get angry quickly. 
Slow drivers. 
Drivers who choose to not use a blinker. 
It's hard to extend grace. 
I see faults often before success. 
I am quick to speak and slow to think. 
 Just ask my farmer. 
I have an insatiable desire to be right. 
I hold tightly to things that bother me. 
Opening my hands and letting things go, are hard. 
Basically, I am a mess. 

 A mess that is loved by a Holy God. 

When Mother's Day approaches it leaves me with a choice. 
My sister in law is experiencing her first Mother's Day without her son. 
I hate that she has to endure this. 
The feeling of wanting to stomp and throw a fit is strong. 

I want to rebel against the weight. 
I don't want to celebrate this holiday. 
Once again I am struck by the use of "I". 
When did it become all about me?
When has it ever been?

The very breath of the Savior brought my bones to life. 
The same Savior called me to himself and I bowed low to the call. 
He has allowed tough things to pass through his fingers into my life. 

Who am I to accept the good but not the hard? 

 Mother's Day is not about me or my feelings. 
It is about the institution of Motherhood. 
The need for all to be mothered. 
Whether God has filled your womb or not. 
You are mother to someone. 
Every kind word you pass on. 
Each nurturing action; a gift. 
Your mother, like mine, may reside with the King of Kings.
Yet, God has provided woman after woman to fill that role for me. 
A kind word here. 
A gesture there. 
A hug. 
A card. 
A listening ear. 

Your son, or daughter, like mine, may reside also with the King of Kings. 
Deep ache. 
Heart wrenching days and moments. 
Searing pain like to other. 
Yet, I had Elijah for 17 years. 
Those years were beautiful. 
God has not for once left my side. 
Sometimes I don't feel his presence. 
It is a hard road to walk. 
His promises tell us; 

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

This morning the choice was made for me. 
As I woke and took that deep breath,
 that breath I take to get out of bed every morning; 
this is what I saw. 

I have 5 beautiful children still this side of heaven, 
and 2 grand babies that I adore. 
My life is blessed with many young people
 that bring me such immense joy. 
Young people that remind me of the gift and treasure I had in Elijah. 

This is where I will choose to place my heart today. 

Psalm 19:1
The heavens declare the glory of God; 
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

(Photo taken July 28, 2013, the morning Elijah met Jesus.)

May you choose this day, a path of gratitude. 
Allow the Holiness of a loving God to shoulder your hurt and pain. 
Lay down all that you hold.
Bring it all to Him.
Each day. 
Let him do His work. 

I heard this song by Toby Mac. 
"I know you're prayers ain't been answered yet. 
I know your feeling like you've got nothing left. 
Well, lift your head. 
It ain't over yet. 
Keep walking."

And that's what I'm doing. 
I am looking up. 
Feet planted on solid ground. 
I am going to keep walking. 
Because it's not over yet. 

Toby Mac

No comments:

Post a Comment