Posts Tagged ‘mother’

I wrote this at (one of) my other blog(s), quite e-musing. It was therapeutic and painful to write. I felt it all over again tonight after a support group meeting where a friend opened up her heart and bled emotional pain all over the concrete in front of the Spectrum Healthier Communities building.


To quote Elton John…

It’s sad, its so sad
It’s a sad, sad situation
And it’s getting more and more absurd
It’s sad, so sad
Why can’t we talk it over
That sorry seems to be the hardest word

I’ve just been so sad lately. Beating myself up for failing as a friend, sister, mentor, mom, wife, daughter of God et al. I had a chance. I tried. Well, kinda. When it got hard, I bailed. It’s hard to fight Satan, he’s so strong and knows my weaknesses oh too well.

When I got rejected, I took it personally. I failed to see to the deeper need of the people I was called to serve and succumbed early on in the fight by letting a mere flesh wound signal my retreat. My strong sense of justice called me to fight to help break a sad, sinful cycle of addiction. Unfortunately, the one I was fighting for didn’t want out–it’s easier to stay in the cycle than break free. But I was willing to help walk the wire. My help wasn’t wanted. For that I am sorry. I have failed you and myself, God’s heart and mine hurt for that.

The saddest part, there are children involved. There was a chance for the cycle to be broken while the kids were small enough that they wouldn’t be ravaged by the consequences, the poor examples they have as their gauge of what it looks like to be a man of God, woman of God, husband and wife who have left their parents and are cleaving to each other as God ordained, a healthy marriage worth the work, the muck, facing and weathering the storms. Healthy parental relationships rather than co-dependent ones well into adulthood. A reality based on relativistic ego-centrist interests rather than in …well, reality. Financial nooses being tied rather than blisteringly unraveled by hard work and determination.

I tried writing a letter, but after praying, asking around for some objective advice as to whether or not to actually send it, realized that it won’t be read and understood, but just misconstrued once again.

So, most of us with frustrated hurting hearts who have tried to help, tried to follow the guidelines in Matthew 18 of confrontation, who have tried via Bible studies and accountability groups, painful and often one-sided friendships, asking tough questions, giving and giving some more, attempting to mirror Christ to these people feel that although we ought to be forming an intervention to prevent yet another disaster-in-the-making, but that we have no other recourse except to bring our love and worries before God’s throne.

To beg Him to bolster them up in the course that they have chosen. To shield their children from the storms ahead and their heritage riddled with the “sins of the fathers”. To surround them with people who will be allowed to ask the tough questions and keep pursuing these wounded hearts when the game gets tough, when they start to lose, and when they try to pick up their marbles and leave…again. To break the cycles of addiction, enablement, co-dependency, and selfishness. To open ears and eyes so the misleading babble of the beautiful One can be clearly delineated from the sometimes challenging charges of our Savior. For strength to turn head knowledge into heart knowledge and the courage to really and truly live it out.

May your journey bring you back to the heart of God.

For me, I pray forgiveness. That God will release me from harsh words and thoughts. From failures to say and do what He prompted when He prompted because I was afraid of the repercussions. That I can put the past failures as far away from me as He does. For true forgiveness to continue to happen. That I won’t dwell on the past or revel in guilt. That as friends come in and out of my life, they will leave knowing God more and Jenna less. That I won’t be hesitant to pursue real relationships with them because I have been hurt by others. That I won’t lean on my own understanding, but always lean on God. That I’ll continue to face my sins, shortcomings, and acknowledge them and grow from them–confessing them to God rather than stumbling and tripping all over them while cutting and bruising myself in the process.


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This is another creative writing exercise I started at Monday night’s LAB meeting. It (like my Master’s degree, sealing the deck, and the lighting in our bedroom) needs finishing.

“I am…” poem
by Jenna

I am Jennifer Anne

Mother of Liam, Ellison, Addison (yes, they hear me roar) and maybe someday one more that started out in another family meant to come join ours?

Who needs…

Who loves reading, cooking, and anything that would “culture” me.

Who sees a way to fix almost anything and agonizes when she can’t, an entire 12 course menu for under $20 each time she reads a grocery ad, and five more questions for every answer you give her.

Who hates injustice, talking politics, and feeling “obligated” to say or do things she wouldn’t otherwise say or do.

Who fears…

Who dreams…

Who is proud of…

Resident of…


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https://i2.wp.com/www.catholicsupply.com/christmas/_borders/26800C.JPGJust when I needed it, my far-away friend Amelia sent me an encouraging word to meĀ  put my focus back where it needs to be and lift my spirits. To remind me to look to God’s good character in the rough times, not look at the storm around me. To know that what seems thankless day in and day out is making a mark on eternity for myself and those around me. Thank you friend!

Jenna, My great-great aunt who was the most Godly woman I’ve ever known (and lived to be 101!!), had a poem that she sent to every new mother that she knew (she’s not the author, just a poem she loved). I recently came across it in a little journal that she started, passed on my grandma, who then passed it on to me. I thought you might find it to be encouraging! Have a happy Friday and weekend.

A Parable For Mothers

by Temple Bailey

The young mother set her foot on the path of Life. “Is the way long?” she asked. And her Guide said: “Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning.”

But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed with them in the streams, and the sun shone on them, and life was good, and the young mother cried: “Nothing will ever be lovelier than this”.

Then night came, and storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle and the children said: “Oh, Mother, we are not afraid for you are near, and no harm can come.” And the mother said: “This is better than the brightest of days, for I have taught my children courage.”

And the morning came and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary, but at all times she said to the children: “A little patience and we are there.” So the children climbed, and when they reached the top, they said: “We could not have done it without you, Mother.” And the mother, when she lay down that night, looked up at the stars and said: “This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of difficulty. Yesterday I gave them courage, Today I have given them strength.”

And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth – clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: “Look up! Lift your eyes to the light.” And the children looked and saw above the clouds an Everlasting Glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness. And that night the mother said: “This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God.”

And the days went on, and the months and the years, and the mother grew old, and she was small and bent. But her children were strong and tall and walked with courage. And when the way was hard, they helped their mother; and when the way was rough they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond the hill they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And the mother said: “I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know that the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them.”

And the children said: “You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates.”

And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said: “We cannot see her, but she is with us. A mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence.”

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