Happy "Mother's Heart" Day!

Today, we celebrate mothers. 

In the past, this holiday seemed to be very exclusive to those who physically had children. Today, I'm glad to see we have rightfully expanded our perception of this holiday to include those with a "mother's heart." We all know the ability to give birth and childbirth does not always make up a mother in the way that we know "mother" - nurturing, loyal, loving, seeing to her children's best interests, providing for her children, encouraging, supporting, etc. We have including this day to include spiritual mothers, work mothers, actual mothers (whether through childbirth or adoption), aunts, and teachers. 

I look around and see so many friends who have lost their mothers, and I am sad. I see my friends who have miscarried or lost babies after birth and have no child here on earth to hold. To the unaware, they are not acknowledged on this day. I have friends who have two mothers through being adopted and later reuniting with biological mothers or gay parents. I have friends who have no recollection whatsoever of a mother, whether that be through death or other circumstances. I have friends who hold memories of their mothers that elicit pain, bitterness, anger, sadness, or other negative emotions. I also see friends who are mothers who are estranged from their daughters and sons. I have friends who walked into motherhood single. They knew their destiny and they reached out and took it bravely. I have friends whose mothers are oceans away on this day, and what they wouldn't give for one hug and a little time (including my husband).  Some of us have never raised children, but we take care of yours in the classroom, hospital room, or therapy room. I've been honored to be present for so many "firsts" (steps, words, other milestones) with children that I loved dearly but were shared with me by their parents who left them in my care at work. 

It never eludes me on a daily basis that my relationship with my mother is truly one of God's greatest gifts. This became much more real at the end of 2015 when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. My family has generally been unscathed in terms of deaths, diseases, and hardships. I felt for a while that at some point, that would change. This was one of the major reasons Luba and I decided to move closer to family. That decision was solidified after my own surgery and health scare. We only have so long with our family members, and it was more important to be near than stay in California with all its perks and the comfort of our own life that we had built. Shortly after we settled in and got into a groove, this news came. God's timing is impeccable, right? Since the diagnosis Luba and I have been able to make a trip, and my sister and I were also able to drive down when she had surgery. It was the first time in years that I remember my brother, my sister, and I all being together as siblings in one room. In the waiting room that day, I was beyond grateful for this simple gift. It's a long drive, but the option to get in the car and drive there within a day is something I am most grateful for. She is doing well, and if you know her, you know what a fighter she is. 

Through the processing and grappling with this diagnosis, I've seen my mom in such unique ways. I've wondered how much she wants her mom. In her physical weakness, strength that would otherwise go unnoticed or untapped shone through. Her unwavering faith has continued to be medicinal and sustaining for all of us. Even when sick, she still attempted to care for us who drove there to help her. Holding her down is not an easy task! The treatments were (and are) brutal and she makes the most of her windows of "good days" (including a trip up here to STL for Thanksgiving). I mean, look at how GOOD she looks on treatment days?! I'd go dragging in to that long day with my comfies on, but not Peg. She always matches and is always so put together when she leaves the house. She would not be caught dead in some of the things I wear to the grocery store (so please never show her any pictures if you catch me out). 

Because of another stark realization of the fragility of life, this Mother's Day is even more special. Here are a few pictures of her doing what she does best: 

Today also reminds me to not only care for my own mother, but let other women who have served a nurturing role know that I appreciate them. I honor them. I value them. I see them and watch them even when I don't let them know.

I'm also appreciative of those Southern mothers who truly served as a mother when I was away from mine in a time where mothers "mothered" each others' children. I remember fondly watching how easy the following Southern mamas made being a mom look (while we know it wasn't especially with me at your house): Mrs. Donna, Mrs. Bonnie, Mrs. Alice, Mrs. Dolores. 

I've learned so much from my own mother (and sister) as I watched them "mother." I've also learned how to be a mother by watching dear friends care for their children while balancing marriages or singleness and maintaining friendships.  

Some of us dream of being a mother and always have, yet we have no children to call our own or to tuck in at night. In that is pain. I'm having a glass of wine right now and cheers! to us. Our time will come, and we will be more ready because of the path that our motherly friends have made for us. In the meantime, we embrace our own path and raise a glass to motherhood whether it be by body or by heart. 

I'm leaving you with some pictures of my own mom because who can get enough of her sweet face? I'm also including pictures of some spiritual mothers - some are younger and some are older than me. I also have so many friends who I've watched become mothers and are totally rocking their role. 

Happy Mother's Day to whatever kind of mother you are!
Danielle

Other superwomen:

The Church as a Mother

Recently, I was flipping through my journal and came across this picture....

Today, I came to mind so I flipped back to look at it. I'm not sure when I wrote this or why, or if a post was in the works in my soul, but it's there from maybe 6 months ago. As I thought of mothers today, both my own and those who have served as a mother to me in some capacity, I thought of NewSong as a mother.

The sentence is true: I LOVE this church, and by church, I mean the people, my community.

Like a mother, it has pushed me to be more than I thought I could be. I remember the first day I walked in to this church. I was timid. I barely spoke. I stuck out like a sore thumb (less white people circa 2003). I sat on the back row. I felt shame having been out of church and deep in sin for a long time. I loved my first time and have hardly missed a Sunday since. It was exactly what I had dreamed of when I was younger but had given up in finding. This church embraced me. It wiped away the fear, tears, shame and other emotions that had been bottled up inside and comforted me, just like my mother would have done. While it hoped for more from me, it met me where I was. With encouragement and resources, it has shaped me to be who I am today and prepared me to be more that I have yet to realize or see unfold. It recognized me as a leader before I did and gave me opportunities to lead when I did not believe I had the tools or was the right fit. I've been gently reminded here of what I need to "do" or "change" to be more in tune with God without feeling condemnation. I've felt that no matter how much I screw up within or outside of the building, I'll be accepted and loved. And just like my real mama, I can say something about her but if YOU do, "them's fightin' words." 

Sometimes, I look around and am immediately teary-eyed seeing the extraordinary people that are part of this community--many I know personally and some whose stories I only know. I see my personal heroes in families that have adopted or fostered. I see the mother with children with disabilities who provides hope and encouragement for others. I see the physician who built an agency to help pregnant women with alternatives to abortions. I see pastors who are tangible and believe in the congregation as being priests. I see the group that visits Mexico monthly despite warnings to love and bring joy to the children in the orphanage. Everywhere, you can't move without bumping into Heaven on earth. You can't slip through the hallways without brushing up against one or many of God's hands and feet.

I'm surrounded by people who have walked hard roads, roads that are often avoided for an easier path, but they are transparent and vulnerable along their journeys. They share not only the ending, but the details of their struggles. People have bid farewell to that facade that is too often worn in churches. When I've had a dream that sometimes felt farfetched and out of my realm of ability, I've not heard "Let me know if you need help" but instead I have heard "You can do this! How can I help you?" For those that have said this, thank you. Your words have given me life.

If you are out there and looking for a church with an authentic community who isn't afraid to get messy with you in life's ups & downs, check us out. It doesn't matter how long you've been out of church, how many Saturday nights that you cap off with regret or shame, how deep in sin or despair you are, there is a place for you here. I know this, because there was a place for me. You can find more info here and here.

PS. My seat on the back row is available. I'm in the front.

Love, 

Danielle

Happy Mother's Day!

Today is Mother’s Day. Today is the first time I’ve really somewhat “gotten it.”

I look at the holiday differently. First of all, it’s much more personal. As I tuck money away and pay off debts in order to prepare for a future adoption, it makes me wonder if there is already a child out there who will call my house “home” and call me by the most important name in the world, “Mommy,” in the future. How is she celebrating with her birth mother today? Does she have a mother? What trauma may she face before we meet? This year, my heart has changed as has my perspective, making this day different than any other Mother’s Day in the past.  Many different faces pop into my mind this year—friends who are new moms, my own mother, my sister, adoptive and foster parents from The Village, facebook friends who have welcomed me into their adoptive communities, friends dealing with infertility, friends who lost their mothers this year, famous fierce mothers from the past, and those who have given up being a mother physically in order to “mother” so many others.

Recently while on a trip home to Mississippi, I looked back into my senior memory book. Where it asked what I’d be doing in ten years I had written “Married with 2 kids working as a medical technologist in a hospital.” Well, in 2004 that ten year marker came and went, with me being in CA single with no kids. It wasn’t a big deal in 2004 as I was in a serious relationship headed to what I thought was marriage. The relationship ended. A year passed. Another year passed. Another year passed. Another five years passed. I’m still single. I’m still not a mother. I’ve grieved dreams and expectations and kissed them good-bye.

It could be sad, but it’s not. Don’t get me wrong—on many occasions I have been completed devastated and disappointed. With my “human eyes,” I have had countless experiences of watching others obtain MY dream, some of which I felt were undeserving. That perspective was accompanied by feelings of confusion, doubt, and envy.

So many times, I was reminded of the verse Isaiah 55:8:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
 neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.

 If I look around with my “human eyes,” I’ll always see disappointment. My heart will harden from envy or disappointment. My faith will weaken as I second guess. I will miss so many opportunities along the way that are building me for a dream fulfilled.  I just cannot understand. His ways are not my ways. His dreams for my life are so much bigger than what I can imagine for my own. Thank goodness, right, because hindsight is 20/20—especially when it comes to men. (sorry, guys)

Had I gotten anywhere close to the goal set at that time I completed that memory book, I would not be anywhere near the mother I will be one day. I’m sure I’d be happy and complacent. Complacent is a word that I never want to be active in my vocabulary when I describe my own life. As I’ve dealt with the unexpected and the disappointments over the years, I’ve gotten closer and closer to God’s heart. He has sent me to Mexico, Guatemala, and South Africa and has shown me glimpses into his heart for the orphaned. I’ve felt in the most miniscule way the heartbreak he feels for children. Hints of my destiny or my “own story” have been revealed along the way—small snippets that lead me into total surrender to a greater plan and desire for more. My heart has opened to the possibility of fostering to adopt, if that’s the plan (who knows?!?!). My dream of adoption that I had as a child has moved to the forefront and within the plane of reality. My heart has connected in a special way to so many others who have adopted/fostered or are in the process. My “mother’s heart” is growing exponentially, sometimes to the point of bursting.

Today is a reminder that I am not a mother as I thought I’d be by this time in my life. Better yet, it is a reminder that I’m not writing my story, God is, and the best is yet to come.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom and sister—shining role models of patience and sacrifice. I have big shoes to fill. 

 

Me + Mom

 Me + my sister

Happy Mother’s Day to those who mourn on this day—the loss of a mother or a child, a miscarriage, or the motherless.

Happy Mother’s Day to my parents at Cornerstone, Haven of Hope, and elsewhere that mother children with special needs. You love fiercely. You humble me. It’s an honor to walk along beside you and help in any capacity that I can. You are my heroes. 

Happy Mother’s Day to the single moms who don’t have a significant other to give you a break and bestow little gifts on behalf of your children—your strength and courage sets an example that I hope I can follow should that be part of my story. 

Happy Mother’s Day to those in waiting, like me, with a mother’s heart.