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.

New School Year: New Opportunities and New Beginnings

Tomorrow, students in our area will return to school for another year full of opportunities and new beginnings. Hallways and classrooms will be noisy as students trade stories of their summer happenings and faculty and staff help direct new students and guide returning students back into the rhythm of a routine.

Maybe your child is going to a new school for the first time, and as a parent you are almost overwhelmed with all of the emotions you are facing. Leaving your bright-eyed kindergartner in a big classroom full of possibilities will be, I’m sure, wonderful and difficult all at the same time. The same is true for the parent who will watch their high school student drive to school for the first time.

It’s a new year full of opportunities and new beginnings.

As a teacher’s wife, I can confidently report the resilient effort teachers invest in preparing for the first day of school.

In many ways, the anticipation of teachers regarding the first day of school outweighs that of every student entrusted to their care.

Teachers, you are super stars!

Your summer break has consisted of thinking of new classroom furniture configurations, purchasing countless supplies, and adding to your ever-growing to-do list.

As you gather plans for your first week’s lessons, you are unsure of what you will encounter. Even teachers-pay-teachers worksheets can’t always prepare you for the difficult circumstances your students will carry into your classroom.

Several of your students have a story of a hardship. They need someone to guide them. They need someone to stand up for them, to be a voice when others who should speak on their behalf remain silent.

Many students will rely on you for affirmation because they’ve never had a blessing or positive word spoken over them.

Some students will find peace being in your presence because their home life is always in turmoil. You have the chance to be consistent and show them, through your words and actions, that they have a trustworthy adult in their life.

Teachers, you are super stars!

Regardless of test scores and your school district’s lofty expectations of what you should be able to accomplish, know this:

You are more than a test score. You are a voice for those unable to speak for themselves.

You are more than your lesson plans. Your actions reveal to every individual student that they can make a difference and that they are worth your time.

You are more than your limited resources. You are creative and capable of making anything from Dollar Tree into something exquisite. You don’t allow limitations to cause anything to be neglected. You choose to invest in your students because they need to know that they are worth it.

You are more than (fill in the blank).

Being a professional educator isn’t always the most respected career.

But you didn’t choose to teach because you desired notoriety.

You chose to teach because you know the difference one positive influence can make.

You chose to teach because you want to make an abused child feel loved.

You chose to teach because you want to encourage the child who isn’t performing on grade level that they are able to overcome.

You chose to teach because you want to make the child who feels forgotten feel cherished.

You chose to teach because you desire to make the world a better place.

As you prepare to enter into another school year tomorrow, I am filled with great optimism and hope. My husband will be at a different school this year and I could not be more proud! By choosing to teach at our district’s “alternative school” I am excited about the stories he will share about small victories as our family has dinner each night. I am delighted to pray for his students as we learn about them and their circumstances. But I am most proud of his willingness to go where many would never consider going. I am excited about the investment he will make in the life of each of his students.

Teaching is no easy task. I pray your year is marked by great accomplishments in the lives of your students. But I also pray that you will have endurance and patience as you deal with students who don’t behave well, who talk constantly, and cause disruption.

The Lord has entrusted every student in your classroom to you. Though difficult at times, I pray you will choose to see the bigger picture and realize that your response to their actions will help mold their future.

Your job is never done. Your energy level is never full. But your call to teach is what keeps you going.

Teachers, you are more valuable than you know!

A Life of Legacy

 

One of the most influential people the world has ever known entered her eternal, Heavenly home late last night.

Many had the privilege of knowing Billie Kyle Cunningham as a friend, confidant, incredible cook, and prayer warrior. But I am one of nine individuals who had the honor of knowing her as their grandmother.

Mammaw Cunningham chose to leave her legacy through her every day living. For her, there was no need to wait until her earthly passing for everyone to know what she stood for, Who she believed in, and all she treasured.

Central to all of my memories of Mammaw is her unwaivering faith in Christ. She and Pappaw Cunningham were devoted to loving others in a way that honored the Lord and drew people into His presence. She was devoted to loving others above herself, always choosing sacrificial love rather than ever seeking to acquire worldly riches. Recently she and I joked about how wealthy I thought she and Pappaw were when I was a young girl. I assumed so because they were incredible givers. One of my favorite quotes, “If you are more fortunate than others, build a longer table, not a higher fence” fits Mammaw so well. She could make a pot of gumbo big enough to feed an army! Their home in Moss Point, MS had a revolving door anytime I was there to visit. Neighbors, friends, and kids from down the street all showed up unannounced for coffee, snacks, or just friendly conversation. And Mammaw never complained. She always perked another pot of coffee, prepared a snack and stopped what she was doing to invest in lives of those seeking her company.

Mammaw’s love for Pappaw ran deep, even after a couple decades of being a widow. Her love and ongoing devotion to him has allowed me to glean from great wisdom. Her commitment as a mother and grandmother has become one of the best influences in my life as I have navigated motherhood for only a few years. Though many miles separated us, she walked with me through the journey of infertility and miscarriage like no other family member could. She, too, endured a miscarriage during her first pregnancy. Her encouragement and her prayers for me in those difficult days were priceless.

Just one week ago, I was on the phone with Mammaw asking how she was feeling. Though she’d been diagnosed with cancer and was in hospice, she didn’t complain. All she’d say was, “The good Lord’s got me. No need to worry!” Always considering the feelings of others. So much so that even in her last days here on earth, she chose to send a birthday card to my oldest child. We received the card hours before she went to Heaven. She wanted to make sure that both of my girls received soemting for their birthdays this year. What a woman!

Though I will greatly miss talking to Mammaw – learning from her living legacy and reminiscing about our days together when I was younger – I know for certain that she met her Savior, Jesus Christ, face to face last night. Not to mention that there was some kind of reunion in Heaven when my Pappaw and aunt and uncle, who all passed on before her, were made aware of her arrival! What a homecoming!

1 Timothy 6:18-19

They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.

 

Food Allergies Make Me Jealous

Our world changed more than we were able to really comprehend when we discovered that Ada has food allergies. Until then, Joseph and I both were aware of the severity of food allergies to a degree. He’s an educator and I had been working in student ministry in some capacity for eleven years. Epi pens, and dietary restrictions, etcetera were common for us to deal with.

But then it became our everyday life. It became something that we had to think about all of the time.

We’ve become defensive about food allergies because we have to be.  “Oh, she’s lactose intolerant?” “She doesn’t like peanut butter?”  If only it were that simple.

Simply put, food allergies mean that an ingredient is read by the body as a toxin. With every exposure we are unsure how severe her reaction will be.  Hives or anaphylaxis.  Itching or inability to breathe.

Food allergies make me jealous of others who can go to any restaurant without fear. Our list of restaurants has dwindled to two places in our area that are safe and/or that Ada enjoys.

Food allergies make me jealous of those who can enjoy birthday parties. Trying to explain to a toddler that common party food and snacks will harm her is difficult. Baking our own “safe” treats isn’t always helpful.  Who doesn’t want to eat the same type of treats that their friends are enjoying?

Food allergies make me jealous of those who don’t have to read labels on everything. We have discovered that some frozen French fries are sprayed with lactose, some meat products are prepared in a facility with common allergens and that even items marked “dairy free” on the label actually aren’t.

Food allergies make me jealous of those who don’t have to think about whether or not church child care workers or baby sitters understand the severity of allergen exposure. Thankfully we have had awesome caregivers for Ada; and my mom and step-father have been gracious to care for Ada and Ellen in order for Joseph and me to go out on dates.  But it’s difficult to leave the house and not think about all of the “what ifs.”

We have to think through what residue may be left of shopping carts and playground equipment. We are constantly asked, “Well, just tell me what she can have. Do you have a list?”  It’s not that simple.  We have to think about how close we are to a hospital when we go to most family gatherings, church events, and when we travel.

Food allergies make me jealous of a lot of things, but most of all, food allergies make me jealous for Heaven.

In Heaven there will be no pain (Revelation 21:4). In Heaven everything is perfect. There’s nothing there that can cause harm.

We deal with food allergies day in and day out. And while I realize that many others endure other difficult circumstances regarding the health of their child, I’m just a mama who is like any other parent: I want to know my child is safe.  Aren’t you glad that we serve a God who loves our kids even far more than we do?! He knows best how to care for them. He knows best how to calm us. And He uses it all to make us look more like His Son.

Tomorrow Ada has another blood test (Rast test, for those who want to know the technical term).  We will know within 5-7 days what her allergy test results are. This will let us know where she is on the “scale” that tells how allergic she is to milk, the three separate components of milk, and peanuts.

I believe that the Lord is able to heal her from food allergies. And I have begged Him to do so. Joseph and I would love your prayers. Ada has told me repeatedly that she is going to be brave tomorrow.  But the reality is that it’s a lot for a 2 year old to understand. Thank you in advance for all of you who are praying with us and for us in this journey. If the Lord is glorified through it in any way, it’s worth it. And prayerfully soon Ada will believe that to be so in her heart, too.

To My Brother’s Bride-To-Be

He and I have been close from the very beginning.  We have depended on each other through difficult circumstances, laughed our way through countless seasons and have encouraged one another to achieve our goals.  We have sought one another’s advice pertaining to vocational ministry work and have been the other’s sounding board for new ideas.

He gets me.  He’s been one of my best support systems, one of my loudest cheerleaders and best friends.  He’s made me laugh when circumstances made me want to cry.  He’s held my hand through tough stuff and let me cry on his shoulder. 

He’s been the best brother anyone could hope for.

But it’s the end of an era for me.  He’ll no longer call me first to get advice about something.  He will not ask my opinion first regarding ministering to a girl in the youth group.  And I won’t be his second favorite female (second to mom, of course).

You have taken on these roles.  He will esteem your opinion as most valuable, as he should.  He will seek your input on every situation, especially ministry.  You are now his favorite person on earth.  And that’s how it should be!

Stephanie, sixty-seven days ago you were introduced to the family.  But even before then, as I listened to Christopher speak of you, I knew you’d be the one he chose to become his wife.  In just sixty-seven days you have encouraged my family and me as we have made the transition from one child to two.  You have chosen to use your free time to help with family matters revolving around our grandmother’s failing health.  And you have assisted in cleaning and reorganizing with mom as she works hard to care for our grandmother.

You have revealed, yet again, how faithful the Lord is in answering our prayers.

Stephanie, you have been prayed for… for a long time!  As his older sister, I have witnessed him get hurt, but I don’t have to worry about that with you.  I have seen you both keep one another’s interest in mind.  I have watched you care for one another.  I have seen the sweet sparkle in both of your eyes when the other enters a room.

You have become his greatest encourager, his best friend, and his support system.  I have prayed intentionally that the Lord would bring you to him quickly.  I asked that his future wife would support his call to ministry and would be willing to help in any capacity possible.  I have prayed that his bride would appreciate his humor and love him even more for it.  I have prayed that he would marry someone who meshed well into our family, and would support our close relationships with one another.

Yesterday you said “Yes” to becoming Mrs. Christopher Cunningham, and I couldn’t be more thrilled!  You are the answer to so many prayers.

Though it’s the end of an era for me, it means you and my precious brother are getting to begin a wonderful era in your own lives.

Marriage is such a wonderful gift.  Joseph and I are honored to walk along side of you and cheer you both on.

Welcome to the family, Stephanie!  You are so loved.