Watching her sleep

I sit on the edge of her hospital bed and watch her sleep.  It takes me back five years and a month to this same hospital when I was the one in the bed holding her in my arms, watching my newborn baby sleep.  The feelings of vulnerability and fear and profound love are the same.  It's a strange thing to be a parent, to have so much responsibility and yet feel so very helpless.  Suddenly people are asking you questions and you're expected to have all the answers--what is her social security number, when did the pain start, and every minute detail of her potty and eating habits.  I couldn't tell you today's date, and yet I'm entrusted with this precious being who looks to me to care for her and have all the solutions.

Becoming a parent is the quickest way to feel like an adult...and a helpless child.

Sometimes I think I will burst from all the love and heartbreak of it all.  She takes my hand and I pray that she'll see strength instead of uncertainty.  I hope that she'll trust the decisions we make are the best for her, even when they hurt.  I wonder if we'll have the faith to hold it all together even when the road is rough.

But for now, I watch her sleep and remember the grace of her finding comfort in my arms from the beginning, understanding that she sensed something in me that I am not always able to trust in myself.  She recognized me as her mama before I could fully embrace that.  And so I must lean on her faith and trust in God who holds us both as we sleep.

Birthday treasure

My daughter gave me a hand drawn treasure map for my birthday.  It is lovely to me, made with care and love.  But the true beauty in it for me is not the "heart shaped jewel bracelet" in the treasure chest, but in the fact that she located it right outside of our (purple) house.  She even drew the dirt that we would dig up to find it, and the neighbors' (much larger) house beside us.  I can see a deeper message in this.  I don't have to go far to look for my treasure; it is always with me.  Sometimes I have to dig a little but it remains right below the surface.

I see the treasure in my sweet husband who works so hard to make this a special day for me and who has never forgotten a special occasion.  And even though I give him a hard time about remembering, even if he happened to let one slip by, I'm blessed by how he makes each day beautiful.

I feel it in the love of my coworkers and students that decorated my office today with streamers and love notes.

I witness it in the miracle that my favorite flowers that grew and bloomed for my birthday week.

I realize it in watching our daughter grow physically and socially as she performed in a school play 

and am grateful to have had lunch with my two silly ones (even with the inevitable fits that ensued).

There are so many treasures that I often overlook as I'm expecting something different.  I may envision a heart-shaped bracelet, when instead, my treasure looks a lot like digging and getting messy in the dirt of life.  There are moments that sparkle and shine, and these are gifts, but the greatest blessing is the day by day struggle where we must seek and find the good in all that at first glace seems dull and regular.  I guess that's why they call it a treasure HUNT.  If it was always visible and easily accessible, it wouldn't be so valuable.  There is something about the search, the struggle, and the challenge of the day to day that both obscures my blessings and in rare shining moments makes them visible to me.  

So here I am at 36, with my first photo in the bathroom mirror shot, looking forward to unearthing more treasures in the year ahead and sharing them with those around me.

A Mother's Day tribute

I grew up in a family of women.  It's no surprise that I consider myself to be strong and have a leading role in my family as these were my role models.  I never questioned what I could do or be as I saw my mom and nana always doing all that they could and all that needed to be done.  In addition to their everyday jobs, they were the mechanics when something broke, the cooks who gathered the family together around the table, and always the encouragers, telling me I could be anything I wanted to be.  I saw them sacrifice of themselves time and time again so that they could give me advantages.  My mom always cared more for me than she cared for herself.  As a mother, I know what a tenuous thing it is to have your identity wrapped up in motherhood...it is sacred and beautiful, and also so very isolating and challenging.  She embraced it and never complained.  It's only now that I understand what a gift that is, and want to know more of who she is as an individual, apart from being my mother and friend.

I have chosen a vocation that is somewhat atypical as Baptists don't fully embrace women in ministry.  It is a testament to the strength and faith of my family that I didn't even know it was an issue until I entered seminary and heard flack from my home church.  But I have never been so touched and so aware of the ferocity of my mother and grandmother's love until I understood that they were fighting for me and my dreams, standing up on my behalf.  It's not a surprise as they always did that, but it is marked forever in my mind as confirmation of this tribe I come from, that we are forever connected by blood and by love.  No one makes it alone...we are carried on the arms of the community that loves and supports us, and I have been so blessed in the gift of my family.

I went to a "Muffins with Mom" event this morning at my son's school, and I thought of how many similar events my mom had proudly sat through.  In spite of working multiple jobs, she was always there for me.  I hope she knows how proud I was to always have her there.  Being on the other side as a mother, I get how much it means to see the little ones you've invested yourself in shine in their own space.  I have a new-found appreciation for the handprint gifts and snot-nosed angel pictures she has cherished to this day.

I have received so much from the women in my life...my love of learning and reading, my need to clean and organize, and my calling to love and nurture my own family, encouraging their gifts and always being present.  Thanks to their support, I have also been able to find work I love that fulfills me and allows me to show my children that they can use their own passions to enrich the world.  I was impressed that in his Mother's Day gift to me, Brady wrote about knowing that I'm smart because I work as a chaplain.  I didn't realize he understood that part of my life, apart from him, but I'm happy that he is proud of that as well.  My family continues to encourage me with their pride.  

One thing I apparently didn't get from my family is cooking skills.  When Brady's worksheet asked what his mom liked to cook, he crossed out the question and wrote, "She doesn't cook."  

Which reminds me of how grateful I am for the man in my life that takes care of so many things (including meals) so that I can live out my calling.  I'll have to trust in him and the other women in our lives to ensure that our kids have the same warm memories I do of sharing together around the table.

My great-grandmother, Susie 

My nana, Nadine

Nana with John's grandparents, Alma and Alfred

Mom helping me with my wedding dress

My mom, Linda