To the One with Empty Arms on Mother’s Day

The great excitement and anticipation for Mother’s Day celebrations tomorrow are everywhere you turn. Everything from billboards, grocery store aisles, and jewelry store sale ads cluttering your mailbox point to grand celebrations and gifts that should be given tomorrow.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe moms should be celebrated. God has blessed me with a wonderful mom, step-mom and mother-in-law. And as a mom myself, I am aware of the sacrifice, love and care that are required to accomplish a day’s tasks.

However, at some point, I believe our culture has become somewhat insensitive to those who aren’t holding a child on Mother’s Day or those who dread Mother’s Day because their mom is no longer here.

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For you ladies waiting to get a positive pregnancy test, you aren’t alone. I have been there. I was told it would be highly unlikely for me to ever have children. Though I now have the honor of mothering two precious girls, and know I have a son in Heaven, the months of infertility and treatment do not seem like that long ago.

The ache to have children is difficult. While being genuinely joyful and excited for those around you who are pregnant, you wonder “Why can’t it just be me!?” Month after month, it seems like every other female within a 50 mile radius of you is sharing a pregnancy announcement on social media. Everyone except you, that is. And every post from a pregnant woman complaining about her symptoms just causes you to wonder even more because you long to be pregnant and those who are seem ungrateful to be entrusted with such a gift.

This Mother’s Day, I pray that the Lord would encourage your heart. I pray that He shows you in some way that He sees you. I pray that you’d know He really IS working all things for your good! Waiting is hard. It’s not enjoyable or easy by any means. But as the Lord guides you and as He shows you His plan to grow your family, I pray that you will trust Him.

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For you ladies waiting to receive the call that your adoption journey is coming to an end, trust God’s faithfulness! From journeying with our friends through adoption, I have learned that adoption simply doesn’t always have a timeline. Paperwork and home studies can be completed weeks, even months or years, before you finally receive the call that the birth mother has delivered the baby you will welcome home. I naïvely believed that our friends’ adoption process would be quick after fundraising and paperwork seemed to be rolling along quite rapidly. There was a long halt to the process. But as a family, they trusted. As a faith family, we were motivated to depend on and trust the Lord to bring a baby home, and to do so soon!

After countless prayers for this precious family, when my friends walked into my office to tell me they were going to pick up their baby girl, I knew. They didn’t have to say a word. The look of hope and promises fulfilled on their faces was explanation enough!

This Mother’s Day, I pray that the Lord would remind you of the promise He gave you. A promise to grow your family. A promise to give you a tangible expression of His grace toward us. A promise to fill your arms with a precious gift.

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For you ladies celebrating Mother’s Day without your mom, choose to celebrate her! Celebrate Mother’s Day on her behalf with some of her favorite things. Enjoy one of her favorite meals or dessert. Reminisce about her mannerisms and take time to recall some of your favorite stories of her.

I am thankful to be able to celebrate Mother’s Day with my mama tomorrow. But tomorrow will be the first time I won’t call my Mammaw Cunningham to wish her well and seek advice on Mother’s Day.

Dementia has stolen my Mammaw Neill’s recollection of who I am most days, but tomorrow I will read through her old cookbooks for a bit and choose to remember many of our chats at her dining room table.

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Mother’s Day can be extremely difficult. For those of you waiting on a baby or a child, or wishing you could hug your mom just one more time. I pray the Lord comforts you in a way only He can tomorrow.

He is near to the broken hearted. (Psalm 34:8) He cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7) And God loves you with an everlasting love. (Jeremiah 31:3)

So regardless of what emotions tomorrow will bring for you, celebrate God’s goodness. Celebrate promises fulfilled. Celebrate promises yet to be filled. And celebrate the mother or mother-figure who helped you become who you are today, even if you must celebrate without them.

What Dementia Can’t Steal

 

Yesterday, my family and I had the special opportunity to have lunch with my Mammaw. After our morning dentist appointments, we arrived to the nursing home just in time to make arrangements for her lunch to be brought to her room in order for us to have an early birthday celebration.

Tomorrow she will be 81 years old. Dementia has been part of her life for several years and her declining health has caused us to believe she was headed to Glory in many scary instances. But tomorrow, she’s 81!

The disease has stolen a lot from her. It’s stolen a lot from our family. But it cannot claim everything.

Yesterday’s celebration was much different than birthdays in years past.

When I took hold of her wheelchair as she sat in the hallway, I knelt down and said, “Mammaw, it’s me, Sydney. I brought my family to celebrate your birthday a little early.”

She looked puzzled, but she smiled.

“Mammaw, I made a strawberry cake.”

She smiled bigger.

“And it’s a Duncan Hines!”

She cackled with laughter and I rolled her down the hall.

“I’m sure it’s going to be real good!”

“I sure hope so!”

Celebrations are different for many reasons.

One being, I made the cake. That was a task that Mammaw owned for many, many years. And though we both esteem Duncan Hines cake mixes to be the best choice (and food allergy friendly for us), I know I’ll never be able to master her caramel cake.

Dementia cannot steal Mammaw’s legacy.

Known for her mastery of baking a caramel cake and being able to make cathead biscuits with her eyes closed, my grandmother knew her way around the kitchen well. Her fried chicken on Sunday afternoons could help cure anything that went wrong the week before and help motivate me to have a more positive outlook for the upcoming week.

As I helped her with her lunch yesterday, we had a few laughs because she let me know I wasn’t feeding her as fast as she wanted. “That’s mighty good! Keep it coming!”

She prepared countless meals for me and helped teach me the importance of hospitality, and yesterday reminded me that time sure has changed things for her.

She spent years waiting on others hand and foot, donning a faded apron, of course. And there she sat. As I fed her, she never quite understood who I was, but she was glad I was there and she was so happy to see my family.

She played footsie with my almost 2 year old and she chatted about animals and music with my almost 4 year old.  And occasionally she would ask Joseph about something that was random to us, but the topic held importance to her at the time.

Dementia cannot steal Mammaw’s joy.

Though she couldn’t quite pinpoint how she knew me, she was full of joy. Confusion didn’t taint the celebration. We were all simply grateful to be with one another.

Mammaw laughed with my girls over silly nuances and insisted that they eat more cake than they needed.

Dementia cannot steal what Mammaw means to me.

My heart is still overwhelmed by the Lord’s kindness in giving us a celebration with her yesterday. But even more so, I am humbled and honored that He chose her to be my grandmother.

For 31 of her 81 years she’s told me, “You’re my girl!” (“girl” said with the thickest southern accent you can imagine.)

She may never be able to recall my name at a moment’s notice again, but that doesn’t discount all we have shared. I’m glad to be “Mrs. Neill’s granddaughter” and pray that this year allows us to create more memories together, even if I’ll be the only one of the two of us who is able to remember them.

Forgive Them Anyway

Maybe it was a harsh word spoken toward you or about you.

Maybe it was a misunderstanding or a miscommunication.

Possibly rooted deep in insecurity, their words weren’t intended to cut so deeply. What was said was only spoken as a way to shield themselves from foreseeable moments of being uncomfortable.

Possibly buried beneath layers of past hurts is a person longing to feel acceptance. Their actions that felt painful to you have simply become a way to cope after years of feeling unwanted or unloved.

Whatever the case may be, the concern stems from you having been wronged. You have been mistreated. Something or someone is no longer a part of your life as you once knew. 

Actions and words have been exchanged in a hurtful, maybe even spiteful, manner. 

You are crushed. And you honestly have every right to be.

Forgive them anyway.

Forgive them when they ask for your forgiveness and when they don’t.

Forgive them even when they don’t even realize they’ve hurt you or they can’t fathom the pain they’ve caused.

They’ve said and done hurtful things. But none of that defines you. 

Who does God say you are? What does He think of you?

Ok, then. 
It’s settled.

So, since man’s opinion doesn’t last and God’s thoughts of you never change, that’s where focus should remain. 

Is forgiveness though? Absolutely.

This gross sin-nature we bare causes offense to be a reoccurring issue. It’s not a “one and done” thing. Forgiveness is complex. It’s complicated because the enemy is crafty. 

In Genesis 3, the serpent hisses lies in a manner that causes the very perfect nature of God to be questioned.

I believe that this is still Satan’s business. Doubt about one another’s well-meaning intentions is planted and soon turmoil erupts.

Family strife. Conflict within a friendship. Man, the enemy loves this stuff. And Christ-followers let it happen all for the sake of being deemed right in a situation.

Your feelings were hurt and your pride was injured because you really weren’t right. 

Get over it. Dust yourself off. Repent. And forgive.

A friend of mine laughingly says that I attribute most sin and wrong behavior to a person’s insecurities. She’s not wrong. I believe that the saying “hurting people hurt people” is true. I believe in an attempt to make oneself feel esteemed or important, many individuals choose to make others feel small.

Can I be really transparent and say that none of this is unfamiliar to myself or those I am close to?

There’s a revolving door to hurt that enters our lives. Those we care for dearly hurt us. Forgiveness is God’s answer to it every single time. 

The truth is, He made us all and delights in us (Psalm 18:19). There are often moments I can’t find anything to be delighted in about those who’ve hurt me or hurt anyone I dearly love. But the truth is, Christ in me is the only part of me worth delighting in.

So, when you feel excluded, forgotten and want to give up on even trying to reconcile and mend what once was: forgive them anyway.