Loving with Grace....Remembering my mom.

After I turned 13, I don't remember giving my mom much grace. I didn't even understand what the word meant, let alone wanting to. Years went by. Anger and resentment grew. All my thoughts were of myself and the pain she caused me. I never took a moment to think about her life and feelings because I didn't want to. All that I knew was that my mother never loved me the way I needed or wanted her too. It turns out that I was right, she didn't. I wanted her to change. I wanted her to say she was sorry. She never did. So I took it upon myself to forgive her. It was a ponderous chain of events that I had to forgive, and it was never ending. Always more heartache, always a new situation to work through. It was exhausting.
When my mother and father were diagnosed HIV positive, I thought things would improve. At times they got worse. I tried in every way I knew possible to love and please her, and each time I never felt that she could accept my love fully. There were moments of laughter, the words "I love you" were spoken; but sometimes they never felt quite right to me. I wanted more. It was easy with my dad. He was more like me, I thought he loved me more. I rationalized it all the time in my mind. I had nothing to forgive him for, because he "did the best he could". He had such a horrendous life growing up , and it was so hard to live with my mother. I crafted a special place of honor for my father. I had more than enough love, grace and understanding for him. I knew exactly what grace was, how much I needed it everyday with my family and friends, but did I think to give any to my mom in the midst our relationship?

Today would have been my mom's 71st birthday. In the last 6 months of her life. I learned a lot. I had known the truth about her life for 10 years. She never wanted to talk about it. I wanted to talk about it. I prayed that God would open a door for us to be honest and open, for her to be able to pour out her heart to me. I wanted everything to go my way, if only we could talk, she would love me more. My most wonderful memory of my mom happened on her birthday 2 years ago. John and I went up and took her to Apple Hill, where some of our best memories were created as a family. It was a beautiful day, and we ordered our traditional hot apple cider and apple fritter. I bought her donuts to take home for the week. She wanted to buy a beautiful blouse, but felt it cost too much. We talked her into buying that blouse, an amazing accomplishment for me. We talked about cutting down our Christmas trees and laughed about the boys running all over the forest when they little and how great they are still. As we left, a group of the friends she had made over the past year found us in the store. My mom seemed so proud as she introduced me to her friends and they all told me how wonderful my mom was. They were all happy to meet "Lucy's Daughter". As we left that day, grace began to grow in my heart. I am thankful for the last 6 months of her life as I found a way to live in peace with her. Grace. I loved my mom, but forgive me for the grace I never gave her. As I sorted through her things, I realized she lived through a miserable childhood in a toxic religious environment without the love of Christ in her home, but she still held her faith through all of it. She married the man of her dreams only to learn that her dreams rarely came true. She had the gifts to be a fashion designer, but had to give it up to support her parents when her father had a stroke. I know now the dream I had of her several months ago (see blog post in April) was very revealing. She loved her family and friends, even though deep and nurturing love was foreign to her, leaving her unable to love in a healthy way. She kept the secrets in her heart until she died, leaving behind only bits and pieces of a painful and persevering life. I still wish we could have had that conversation, but she just couldn't. I believe it was just too painful. I am so sorry for the pain she experienced and held so deeply in her heart. Honesty would have given us a fair chance. Now I can give her real grace. I give her praise for reading me Bible stories as a child, encouraging me to continue going to worship even when she chose not to, teaching me how to make a delicious pie crust, and taking me to movies and playing cards with me because she never could. She protected me from family memebers who had done evil to her. I also give praise to God for helping me understand that giving forgiveness and grace is the best way to live. I believe it is the only way to be whole. In many ways I was selfish. In many ways I was deeply damaged and hurt. That is true for so many of us. By the grace of God given to me, He asks me to give her the fullest measure of grace, and there I will find peace. I am so grateful to Jesus the Christ who has healed us both.

Oh How the Years Go By...

Oh how the years go by, oh how the love brings tears to my eyes, all through the changes the soul never dies, we laugh we fight we cry, as the years go by. .. Amy Grant

My first child Andy will graduate from high school in about 4 weeks. How did this happen? Everyone told me this day would be here before I knew it, but you don’t think about that in the early years as you are trying to decide when to feed him solid food, rocking him to sleep in that precious rocker you still have, reading the same book to him for the 25th time that day, endless stroller adventures,or laughing so hard and trying to hide it as I try to teach him that he cannot eat Milk Bones with his dog, and toilet paper belongs on the roll, not rolled out of the bathroom, down the hall and into the living room as company arrives.I never thought much about this day in those elementary school days when I made green eggs and ham, we picked out his lunch box together, made his Halloween costumes, and went by Toys R Us everytime I was in town to see if they had new Pokeman cards. He wanted my help to practice for his spelling test and memorizing multiplication tables, and I helped out in his classroom once a week, read with him every night from an exciting adventure or mystery,and told him how great he was at art, even though we both knew he had other gifts.Even during those days of adolescence when I was wondering where my little boy went and where did the aliens take him. His independence had burst anew, trying my patience or getting on my last nerve.I was not giving him enough rope for the trust he was earning and space he needed; I still had a little trouble looking at the big picture. Then I would loosen that rope, and he was good with almost every inch of it.I did get a little misty, when he graduated on Falcon Field from 8th grade, thinking to myself, wow, he really is going to high school next year. We would go to the graduations of our youth at church, and we were thrilled and excited for them, never really noticing the expressions of parents preparing to let go. There were proms, plays, great teachers,vacations,Yosemite ,movies with friends, youth group, FCA, AP tests, becoming a film maker, and arguing over which books and movies he could read or watch. Every day I would call out to him as he headed across the street, “Have a great day! God goes with you!” Some days he would turn his head and smile and say thanks, some days he would just keep going. I prayed and loved. I failed and lost my temper. Some days I would do all of that. My son lived through the tragedy of losing his grandparents to a disease he did not fully understand, but learned to have compassion and care for all of God’s children. He lived through the moment when his father took a stand to leave corruption and begin anew, and everything he was comfortable with was taken, except for the love of his church friends and family (and his stuff). He lived through the anxiousness that just comes with growing up, and knows he can survive it. He has a firm grip on his faith and knows God will always be there, even if mom and dad can’t be.All of those years bring me to these days. I have reflected a lot lately, pulling out old pictures, laughing and crying at the same time for the future and independence he will enjoy as he begins a new life away from home for the first time. I am so thrilled. Why then do I cry from time to time? (Ok ok, about every other day) Why does my heart almost physically hurt when I think about not having Andy at home? I guess it is because this day has come before I knew it. Actually, if I can sit for a few minutes and think about that fact, I am glad I did not know it would come this soon. Many years ago, I read a bumper sticker on the car of an elderly neighbor that said, “Enjoy Every Age.” That thought has stayed with me for many years now. I have the best of memories in my heart, and I pray that as I walk through these days that came before I knew it, I will remember that there are many more ages to enjoy. Love your kids at every age; you will never regret it when the day comes so soon.

How I Won Little Little Miss Sunday School

I have always been an honest tyke, teenager and adult. Sometimes it has gotten me in big trouble. Through the years I have tried very hard to learn to measure my truthful words with wisdom in my head first. But,thinking back to when I was 4, (a little younger than this picture) honesty had its benefits.I had the great honor of being nominated for the title of Little Miss Sunday School. My family attended a Foursquare Assembly of God church, and EVERYbody knows how much Foursquare churches love contests. To achieve the title, I had to win a penny drive. There were three adorable little girls (including myself) up for the title, and the winner would be chosen according who received the most pennies. I myself was very excited about this title, because the winner won a trophy, an Uncle Sam hat, and best of all, A Disney ICE CREAM MAKER! I wanted that Ice Cream maker. I don't remember so much about wanting to represent the church with the title of Little Miss Sunday School, but hey church for me was all fun back then. The big day arrived after weeks of observation from the church members. It was interview Sunday. I was ALL decked out along with my two opponets, sitting up by the pulpit in front of the entire congregation. I was the last to be interviewed.The most important part of the interview was the question, "Why do YOU want to be Little Miss Sunday School?" The first contestant stepped up to the podium and clearly stated, " I want to be Little Miss Sunday School because I love Jesus!" Great answer! The next contestant stepped up and also gave an eloquent answer. "I want to be Little Miss Sunday School because I love going to Sunday School and learning about God." I seriously remember this, had no issues with their great answers. Finally it was my turn to step up to the microphone. I was ready. "Why do you want to be Little Miss Sunday School Laurie?" With my parents beaming proudly up at me from the crowd, I proudly pronounced," Because I want the Ice Cream Maker!!" I coud not for the life of me figure out why the entire church was laughing so hard. I was being honest here! I won by a landslide. The ice cream maker is long gone, don't remember ever wearng the Uncle Sam hat, but I still have the little trophy to remind myself that it is always best to tell the truth.