I want to jot down an impression before I forget it. Another one of those times where my camera’s battery was dead, but I felt at peace about it because I memorized the moment in my mind so I could hurry home to write about it. (Do you ever feel this way? It used to frustrate me until I realized writing was just as good, if not better, than taking a picture.)

It was the last day of preschool for my 3-year-old son.

When I arrived mid-morning for the end-of-the-year party, nine little children in his class were all dressed in white T-shirts that had their handprints and names painted on them. My son’s handprint is in the middle, green. I wonder if he chose that color. On the back is an adult handprint, and it says, “Miss Sharon loves you.” Honestly, I love Miss Sharon, because if it weren’t for Miss Sharon, I wouldn’t have this blog.

There were about six other moms there, all of whom I’ve gotten to know a little throughout the year. Once again, I realized how I really don’t get out shopping for myself enough because I’m not dressed stylishly like they are. One mom had on gorgeous black spiked pumps with her pants suit. She looked like a million bucks. I would fall flat on my face if I wore shoes like that, but they looked great on her.

But I digress.

We chatted while the kids ate pizza, and then I was the first to say, “You think anyone would mind if we had a piece of pizza too?” Pretty soon, all of us were admitting “This is my breakfast” or “This is my lunch” and snagging a piece of cheese pizza.

One of the moms had collected tiny pictures of all of our kids and made Miss Sharon a little silver bracelet. Then she gave each of her students a T-shirt that had a class portrait on it — that was just taken a couple of days ago. Thank goodness she called me at home to remind me of the class picture because we would have skipped that day since we’ve been sick.

After pizza, juice, and presents, Miss Sharon said, “It’s time for bubbles!”

We followed her out onto the playground, and the moms talked while Miss Sharon tossed out thousands of bubbles with some kind of fancy bubble blower. The children were all laughing and running in the warm sunshine. I was talking to the other moms about who was going to what beach and when for summer vacation. And trying to encourage another mom who said she was moving over the summer.

Then we all went back to the classroom, and each child picked out a balloon to take home. My son picked out a green one. Here’s what I want to memorize: his happy face in his little handprint T-shirt, holding his green balloon. One day, I imagine he’ll tower over me and roll his eyes at me and say, “Mom!” But today, I was “Mama” and he hugged me and told me he loved his school and would miss it.

The strange thing is that, as I was experiencing all this, I was there, and yet I wasn’t there. The words were already going through my mind, and I was wondering how I would tell you all about it. Isn’t that weird? It’s like you were there with me.

Anyway, maybe if this blog survives the next few years, it will be fun to show it to my son someday. I’m proud of him. And of me, for showing up on time.

Another writing contest. Sally Apokedak at All About Children’s Books has announced a poetry contest asking you to write a stanza of a “feechie love song.” These are common throughout the Wilderking trilogy of books by author Jonathan Rogers.

Here’s a sample stanza from Book 2, The Secret of the Swamp King:

She smells just as sweet as a mud turtle’s feet.
Her hair is as soft as a possum.
Once I walked by her side,
but she knocked me cross-eyed,
It took me a week to uncross ’em.

The winner gets a signed set of all three books of the trilogy, The Bark of the Bog Owl, The Secret of the Swamp King, and The Way of the Wilderking. These Christian fantasy books are published by Broadman & Holman and make excellent family summer reading.

Please encourage your kids to enter!!!

You can read more details about the contest in this post here at All About Children’s Books. You will need to email Sally your contest entry or be bold and share it with everyone in the comments section. If you want a good laugh, go read the ones that are already posted.

Deadline is May 31, 2006.

I’m curious to see if any of you have any advice or opinions to offer about wireless internet connection. I’ve been giving it some more consideration lately. We’ve been on a waiting list for DSL for over a year now, but every time I inquire, I’m told “Sorry, you’re too far out.”

The cable company says we’re too far out as well. And I don’t trust satellite. When we had satellite TV several years ago, strange things happened whenever we had a storm or high wind — our TV would lose the signal. I wonder if that would happen on the computer as well.

My friend who also lives out in the country and now has wireless says it works great. Here’s my question: is it safe? Is it like a cell phone, where people can pick up your conversations on a baby moniter? Is there a way to scramble things? I’m really clueless about all this wireless stuff — but I’m also to the point where Dial-Up is making it impossible to download anything.

Any advice would be much appreciated.

I hope you all have a wonderful Mother’s Day, honoring or remembering your mothers. Last year, I enjoyed breakfast in bed, and it was the first year my children were in school, so they made me little Mother’s Day gifts. If you’re a homeschooling dad reading this, be sure to help your children make something special to give your wife tomorrow.

“For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”

Addie	Heather*	Carol
M	Rach	Jeana
Jenn	Amanda	MamaB
GiBee	Boomama	Maria
Blair	Heather	Nancy
Janna	Flipflop	Robin
Sherry	Patricia	Tara
Lauren	HolyMama!	Faith
Christy	Eph2810	Karin
Leann	Rachel	Janice

When I left off yesterday, I told you I was eating lunch with some new friends at the “Life in Balance” conference in Chattanooga. I had gone to hear the FlyLady speak, but I ended up having this fabulous conversation with these very Spirit-filled women. I wanted to know how in the world their church was so passionate about knowing God.

They shared with me that their pastor had a powerful encounter with the Holy Spirit at the Glorieta conference center in New Mexico. He came back a changed man and set about renewing the vision for his church.

Well, I wanted to know more details. I love Glorieta! I went there last fall for a writer’s conference — here’s what it looks like.

“You should read his book,” one lady said to me. “He wrote his whole story in a book. It’s in the church bookstore. It’s called Awakened by the Spirit by our pastor, Ron Phillips.”

Oh, I wanted to read that book!

We talked for a while more, then I felt like I should get back to the sanctuary, so I’d be on time to finally hear the FlyLady speak. As I was about to leave, I decided to pass out a few of my cards — they have my website on there, and you just never know. I’ve been to enough of these conferences to realize that every person you talk to is probably a Divine appointment; it takes such effort and expense to go to a conference that each conversation may have a significant impact on your life.

Then one of the ladies asked if she could pray for me. Pray for ME! So we all held hands, all seven of us, and they prayed for me, that God would reveal His purpose for bringing me here. One lady had mentioned before that this verse was on her heart for the conference — Psalm 139:16: “All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.”

She said she believed God had “ordained” (called) each woman who came to this conference. Um … that would be … me.

WELL! Can you imagine being that nice to a stranger? I thanked them for their prayer, and then I headed back to the church building. On the way, I saw the bookstore, which drew me in like a magnet. I walked in and started looking around. Right away, I found Ron Phillips’ book, Awakened by the Spirit, published by Thomas Nelson.

I really wanted to read it! I picked it up and flipped through it, but I couldn’t justify buying a book when I’ve already got a dozen books I need to review. Then I saw that this pastor had written another book called Kiss of the Father, and it was published more recently. I thought it might make a good book for my CWO “Book Buzz” column next month, which will be featuring books written by and for fathers.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted them both. But I knew I probably should only buy one.

Then a lady I recognized from lunch walked over and said, “I’d like to buy one of these books for you. God prompted me to come in here, that you were going to want to read these books, and you could only buy one. Well, you’ve got to read them both. They’re all part of his story.”

I couldn’t let her do that! “Oh, that’s OK,” I told her.

“No, really,” she smiled. “I’d love to do this for you.”

I was about to cry. Why was she being so nice to me?

So she paid for one of the books, and I paid for the other. I immediately went out to the auditorium and started reading, devouring Awakened by the Spirit. It was the story of a burned-out pastor who was on an airplane to New Mexico to speak at a retreat. He had just finished typing out a resignation letter on his laptop; he was so burned out and ready to QUIT.

But at Glorieta, he heard a powerful speaker one night — and then he sensed God’s presence filling him as never before.

I had to stop reading, as the conference started back up. And this time there were awesome praise singers. No shouting. Just music that filled the room with beautiful praise.

Next, there were some prize giveaways, and a short mini-drama about a woman who discovered how the secret to balancing all the things we have to do in life is through prayer, through Christ.

Then Marla Cilley (FlyLady) spoke, and I heard her say the words I know God wanted me to hear. She said, “God has a purpose for each of your lives. My mission is to help each of you find time in your day to fulfill that calling. If I can help you save time by getting your household routines in order, you’ll be able to do those things you’re called to do.”

Can you believe that?

But I still had more to learn. I came home and read that whole book in nearly one night. It ties in so well with all that we’re learning in the Beth Moore study about the Holy Spirit. Here was the story of another pilgrim, another example of a changed life through the power of God.

Those ladies who prayed for me have no idea how much I needed to read that book! And of course they also had no idea that I have a means to share what I’m learning with people around the world! If you’re at all feeling burned out and wondering if the Holy Spirit even exists, I highly recommend Awakened by the Spirit.

The funny thing is, if it weren’t for you blog readers, I would never have gone to this conference! So, thanks!!

Here it is: the picture you’ve all been waiting for. See? I met her!

This is me, with Marla Cilley, a.k.a. The FlyLady. I really got all nervous and tongue-tied when I actually met her — it’s hard to tell someone in person, “Um … I’m one of your 300,000+ readers who devours your emails every day, and you give me hope in the midst of my chaotic life. Thanks!” It’s much easier for me to write that! (So I gave her a pretty note instead — and a copy of my little book for mothers and daughters!)

Well, let me tell you a few details about this conference.

You know, on a whim, while I was writing my blog post a couple of weeks ago, I thought Maybe I’ll go to that conference and try to meet the FlyLady and hear her speak!

So I talked to my husband about it, and it turns out he has some old college friends in Chattanooga that he wanted to visit — and he decided he could take our older kids to Rock City while I went to the conference. Perfect, right?

Well, we got there late. It was a 3-hour drive, and our MapQuest directions had us take a wrong turn finding the church. But I finally got there! And I saw a table with name tags, and my name was on one of them! They even gave me a cute “Life in Balance” tote bag full of all kinds of goodies, including nail polish. Fun!

But when I walked into the huge sanctuary, I found out that I’d already missed FlyLady’s first talk. Instead, there was a singer on stage who was leading some kind of pep ralley, it seemed. She was shouting out things, and people were repeating after her. It was loud in there, and this is just not the type of worship style I’m used to. So I left and went out to the lobby to explore around.

I talked to some other ladies who said they had a headache from all that shouting, and one lady said it was messing with her medication. It WASN’T just me! I felt so foolish — why have I come all this way, Lord? I don’t know anyone, and I don’t fit in here.

I piddled around and found the FlyLady’s table of products. I bought one of her ostrich feather dusters — which I’ve heard so much about! After a while, I went on to the cafeteria, where they had cute little boxed lunches for us. I talked to a nice woman who said their “Faith Building” used to be a bowling alley, but the church bought it and converted it to be used for classrooms and fellowship for youth.

When I walked into the cafeteria, I was the ONLY one in there. The room was empty, silent, with white tables and folding chairs. Once again, I had my doubts about coming to this conference. I picked a seat and sat down. I thought about reading some of the magazines in my new tote bag, but then I didn’t want to look unsociable.

So I sat there alone, staring at the wall, eating my sandwich. Pathetic.

Finally, a few ladies started entering the room, group after group. Everyone seemed to already know each other. A few women came toward my table and asked if my seats were saved. I told them no, to please feel welcome.

Let. Me. Tell. You. There was something going on. These women were talking a mile a minute to each other, telling stories about “He told me this” and “He told me that.” At first I thought they were talking about their husbands. But it seemed to be the same person because someone else would say, “I know it! Isn’t He awesome?!”

I finally figured out they were talking about GOD! Like He talked to them personally! Like He was their best friend, and they knew Him so well that He was a major part of every decision they made. You’ve heard the term “salty” before. These women were “salty!” I wanted to know why they were as excited about knowing God as most women are about a half-price shoe sale.

I started asking questions. I found out they were all from this church where the conference was being held. One lady next to me said she’d been a member of this church for 35 years. I wanted to ask her, “So what’s the real story? Why is there a huge sanctuary and a converted bowling alley next to a small brick Baptist church? And why are you people so excited about your relationship with God?” I knew something major must have happened. A magazine editor I write for is always reminding me, “Heather, you need to dig and find the real story.”

Finally, I asked, “Have you seen a few changes in this church over the past 35 years?”

Everyone at the table burst out laughing. “We used to be so different!” the lady next to me said. “We were a very quiet church. You couldn’t even say ‘amen’ during a sermon without being frowned at.”

“So, what happened?” I was about to burst.

“It was our pastor. He had an encounter with the Holy Spirit. At the Glorieta conference center.”

What! I went to Glorieta last fall. Now they really had my interest.

I want to tell you his story, but I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. And I’ll share with you the REAL reason why I know without a doubt God wanted me to be at that “Life in Balance” conference!

P.S. If you’ve never read anything written by Marla Cilley, here’s a great editorial she wrote for The Augusta Free Press, Time Flies When You’re Having Fun. Read it, and you’ll see why so many women around the world LOVE the FlyLady!! She is meeting women’s needs and helping us attain peace in our homes. Who knew?

Editor Darlene Schacht of Christian Women Online has reprinted Ann Voskamp’s award-winning essay, A Shepherd’s Mother, incorporating gorgeous photos. Please go read it on the magazine’s site! What a lot of encouragement is going on out here in the blogosphere!

Thank you to a certain someone who sent me a letter from her mother, in response to her reading her daughter’s essay for this contest. I ruined another pair of contact lenses crying through that note — but it’s something I’ll always treasure. What a thrill to know I made somebody’s mom feel special because her daughter wrote a story that blessed her!

Other news: Holy Mama! has blessed MY socks off today with her post about my book. Wow — Thank you!

Here’s a must-read funny interview on Sally Apokedak’s All About Children’s Books site. She caught up with Dr. Jonathan Rogers, author of the Wilderking trilogy. Book 3, The Way of the Wilderking, was released last week, just in time for summer reading. If you want to know what a young boy reads to grow up and become a children’s novelist, go read this interview. (Just watch out for those screaming hairy armadillos.)

And me! I’ve been offered a position to become a professional blogger! I don’t know what to do and am giving this much prayer. It’s on a topic I feel quite passionate about — but do I feel passionate enough about it to write six posts per week? I must say, there’s something to be said for earning a little income doing something that I love.

Reading all of your stories about your moms made me think of one of my favorite memories with my mom. I posted this picture a few months ago, but it’s sitting on my desk and worthy of another story.

Let’s see — I was in my early 20s when this picture was taken. I was living in Osaka, teaching English and working for a church. I LOVED living in Japan. In fact, my mom was afraid I might never come home, so she called me every Sunday. I guess it would be different now with email, but our phone calls and paper letters were our link back then.

She came to visit me in April, at the height of the cherry blossom season. We spent the whole week in various places enjoying Ohanami, as the Japanese say. (“hana” means flower, and “mi” means “to see.”) You spread out a blanket under the cherry blossoms and enjoy a picnic. We traveled to visit friends in Tokyo and were able to stay in a little house, just the two of us. Then we took a train to Hiroshima, so Mom could do some research on the aftermath of the atomic bomb. She’s a high school chemistry teacher, and she’d been corresponding with a Japanese high school science teacher — whom we were able to visit.

Did you know that when a Japanese teacher walks into a classroom, the students all stand up and then bow to the teacher and say, “Thank you for teaching us.” We were of course in total shock. And they all wore sharp navy blue uniforms. A teacher is called SENSEI. If you study the Japanese characters (kanji), the character for “sen” means “before” and “sei” means “life.” So, if you’re a teacher, you’re a life going before your students. To be called a “sensei” is an honor, much the same as it was to call Jesus Christ “Rabbi.”

This picture was made in Kyoto, I think, in front of one of the shrines. One of the best things about living in Osaka is that it’s in the heart of the Kansai region, right in the center of Japan. Within a half-hour train ride, I could get to Kyoto, Nara, or Kobe, three of the most beautiful cities in Japan. I went to each of those places dozens of times. I had some kind of adventure nearly every weekend.

I used to be in such good shape back then — I rode my bike and walked everywhere, teaching about three classes a day in people’s houses or in jukus (after-school schools.) I also studied the Japanese language several times a week in various places. There were volunteer organizations everywhere that offered free lessons in language, culture, and art. I showed up for everything!

When my mom came to visit, she had to run to keep up with me. I didn’t even realize what a fast-paced life I was living. I had to catch the exact bus I needed to make it on time for my lessons, and if I was running late, I just had to jog or pedal faster. I never had to do housework or cook because I lived in a single room both of those years — one year with a Japanese family and another year in a gaijin (foreigner) boarding house. I ate most of my meals out — fast food in Japan means fish and rice, with a side of miso soup.

We spent a great week together, but what Mom was most interested in was, “Heather, when are you coming home?” She made sure I knew that I’d left a gap back in Georgia.

I thought about staying there forever. But, eventually, I came back home to fill in that gap. And I’ve been here ever since.

I’m curious to know if any of you are members of a Curves fitness center. I joined about a month ago. I’ve been trying to go three times a week to get my “Curves bucks” to win a water bottle or some awesome prize like that. The main reason I joined is that I’m SICK and TIRED of feeling TIRED.

After I work out at Curves, I feel great. Like I did ten years ago before having kids! I’ve learned this is from “endorphins” that are set loose to float around in my mind. Whatever. All I know is that I’m getting used to feeling that way — and I don’t want to stop.

Have I lost any weight? My goal is to lose 25 pounds — and guess what? In a whole month of working out (12 times), I’ve GAINED two pounds. Last night, my 18-year-old trainer gave me a little pep talk. She said I’d probably lost inches and gained muscle. And she told me I was doing GREAT.

I needed to hear that. I worked out this morning next to a woman in her 70s to my right, and a woman in her 20s to my left. The younger woman is a new mom with a 3-week-old son, who she carried in his carseat. She exercised while he slept next to her.

We worked out to an upbeat version of “Amazing Grace.”

I have a new friend there who I see all the time now — we work out together. I am HAPPY at Curves. When Mama’s happy, everybody’s happy at my house.

Congratulations to all of you 38 awesome writers who entered the Mother’s Love Writing Contest. You’re all winners for taking the time to write about your love for your moms. After reading these entries, I can tell you that I’m not the same person. You’ve given me a greater understanding of what transforms an ordinary woman into an extraordinary mom. Thank you for sharing this gift!

There were four other judges who helped me with this tremendous task. We wanted to be unbiased, so we devised a point system based on five categories: originality, passion, interest, literary skill/ mechanics, and takeaway (insight for the reader.) We averaged the point totals to discover the winners — and we also wanted to give each of you an award to honor or remember your mom.

I’ve compiled all of the submissions into a Word file entitled “Stories of Our Mother’s Love 2006,” which is available to anyone who would like a copy. Please send me an email, and I’ll send you this file, which would make an inspiring Mother’s Day gift (especially if you’re artistic and can decorate the cover!). My email is heatherivester at bellsouth dot net. All of the essays are found either in the comments section of the Contest post, or by following the link to the individual’s site.

Here are the wonderful writers who volunteered to help with the task of judging:

Suzanne Rae Deshchidn is a poet, editor, and book critic. She has worked with Mary DeMuth, Tim Riter, and Deborah Gyapong, among others. She’s currently a contributor to the Master’s Artist blog. You can read her poetry on her blog, siouxsie poet uncensored.

Annie Downs is a 4th grade teacher in Kennesaw, Georgia. She is in her third year teaching, though she is currently also pursuing a career in writing. So far, Annie has had three articles published on Radiantmag.com.

Elle Harden is a New Mexico-native-turned-Southern-Belle. She grew up in Gallup, NM, but has lived in Alabama and Georgia for the past 15 years. Elle keeps busy balancing her mommy/wife role with her work as a lawyer. She has two boys, ages 9 and 2. While Elle enjoys her legal research and writing, she plans to expand into creative and inspirational writing. Her newly created Fall On the Grace blog is still in the very beginning stages, but feel free to visit!

Kelli Mix is a freelance writer in Carrollton, Georgia. Her most recent publications include The West Georgia Ladies, Bluph Magazine, and The Star News. She is a contributing writer in the upcoming book, Diapers and Deadlines, and thanks her husband and children for providing endless humor for her essays.

Congratulations to the following winners! The Grand Prize Winner’s essay appears below. I wish I could print all of them here, but the file is over 50 pages single-spaced! Be sure to get your copy!

GRAND PRIZE
“A Shepherd’s Mother” by Ann Voskamp

FIRST PLACE
“No Carbon Copy Mom” by G.B. Clark

SECOND PLACE
“Blazing the Trail” by OreoSouza

THIRD PLACE
“My Mother’s Hands” by Kayin Mayne

FOURTH PLACE
“The Note of Hope that Mama Wrote” by Ruth

FIFTH PLACE
“A Letter to Mama” by Lena Diane Jennings

TEN HONORABLE MENTIONS (arranged in alphabetical order)
“A Mother’s Love” by Holy Mama!
“Mom, You’re the Top!” by Karen Phillips
“Mother’s Love” by Glenda Schoonmaker
“My Mother” by Oshee
“My Mother’s Love” by KEP
“Perfect Attendance” by Spunky
“Quiet and Still” by Julie
“Serving Grace” by Darlene Schacht
“The Art of Homemaking: A Tribute to My Mother” by lindafay
“Weaving” by Kim Anderson

AWARDS FOR MOMS (arranged in order of submission)
1. “Serving Grace” by Darlene Schacht, Most Inspiring Mom Award
2. “New Mother Syndrome” by Donna Shepherd, Mother’s Wisdom Award
3. “A Letter to Mama” by Lena Diane Jennings, Mother’s Legacy Award
4. “Monday Memories: Did I Ever Tell You About My Mother?” by Nancy S. Brandt, Most Inspiring Caregiver Mom Award
5. “My Mom” by Sara Reysio-Cruz, Most Terrific Mom Award
6. “Meet the Woman Proverbs Talks About: My Mom” by Dallas Turner, Proverbs 31 Mom Award
7. “My Mom” by Jess, Best Friend Mom Award
8. “Proverbs 31 Woman” by Angie, Most Noble Mom Award
9. “No Carbon Copy Mom” by G. B. Clark, Most Kind Mom Award
10. “My Mother” by MomKori, Most Encouraging Mom Award
11. “My Mother, my Best Friend” by Kimberlie Clark, Best Friend Mom Award
12. “A Virtuous Woman: Legacy of Love” by Rhodi Alers de López, Young at Heart Mom Award
13. “The Note of Hope that Mama Wrote” by Ruth, Most Faithful Writer Mom Award
14. “My Mother’s Love” by Mary, Mom of Strength Award
15. “Perfect Attendance ” by Spunky, Most Faithful Mom Award
16. “Blazing the Trail” by OreoSouza, Everlasting Love Mom Award
17. “Needing Mommy” by Olya, Most Blessed Mom Award
18. “My Mother” by Erin-erin-bo-berin, Mom Who At Last Knows Everything Award
19. “Quiet and Still” by Julie, Makes Every Day Special Mom Award
20. “Beautiful” by TR Thomas, Most Beautiful Mom Award
21. “Rising Up and Calling My Mother Blessed” by Crystal Lutton, Most Devoted Mom Award
22. “My Mom” by Shannon, Most Positive Mom Award
23. “Mommy’s Little Girl” by Iris, Most Thoughtful Mom Award
24. “My Mother’s Love” by KEP, Most Loving Mom Award
25. “My Mother’s Hands” by Kayin Mayne, Most Creative Mom Award
26. “Weaving” by Kim Anderson, Most Inspirational Artist Mom Award
27. “A Mother’s Love” by Holy Mama!, Most Humorous Mom Award
28. Sue Thomas: (If She Was a Value Tale It Would Be Generosity), Most Generous Mom Award
29. “The Art of Homemaking: A Tribute to My Mother” by lindafay, Best Hostess Mom Award
30. “Mom, You’re the Top!” By Karen Phillips, Most Multi-Talented Mom Award
31. “My Mama” by Jan Eppler, Most Gentle Mom Award
32. “A Tribute to My Mom” by Kim, Most Amazing Mom Award
33. “My Role Model” by Sandy, Most Wonderful Mom Award
34. “My Mother” by Oshee, Best Role Model Mom Award
35. “A Shepherd’s Mother” by Ann Voskamp, Most Humble Mom Award
36. “Mother’s Love” by Glenda Schoonmaker, Mother’s Legacy Award
37. “A Mother’s Love” by Jordan Green, Most Forgiving Mom Award
38. “My Mom” by Cheryl Goforth, Mother’s Legacy Award

I became a mother on the eve of Mother’s Day.

And when they placed that vernix-covered, wrinkled babe into my 21-year old arms that muggy Saturday evening in May, no wave of relief, or ecstasy washed over me. Being the first to caress another human being’s cheek, I only felt raw, unadulterated, strangling terror. If I could have run, I would have. My weak, rubbery legs failed me.

Newborn babe on chest drowsily opened one eye and looked into mine…and I choked. This person, so helpless and fragile, was depending on me — flawed, deficient, inexperienced me.

Tomorrow, my husband would tenderly present me with my very first Mother’s Day card. And I wasn’t ready. I had never shaped another person before. I had my own issues, my own baggage. Didn’t someone at least need a license or something before taking home a swaddled bundle of precious humanity?

And I knew, far too personally, how the struggles of a Mother affected a vulnerable child.

A mere seven days before, lumbering under extreme pregnancy, I had wandered down the hollow halls of a locked psychiatric ward…having left my own mother behind the heavy steel doors for a 72-hour stay. One hand on my swollen belly, my other hand had brushed away the hot, stinging tears. My dedicated Mama was weary from battling her own demons, fighting for her own sanity…living out the carnage of a life bestowed upon her by her own troubled mother. I had prayed that her three days of quiet might bring a measure of peace.

My Mama had suffered through her childhood at the hands of sexually abusive fiends. And I had suffered through my early years as she wrestled to lie her past down. Then in the autumn of her 26th year, with 2 preschoolers at her side, and a 3 week old in her arms, Mama witnessed her 18-month-old daughter fall under the crushing wheels of a delivery truck in our farmyard. Mothers never dream of tucking their babies into shiny black coffins and burying them in cold earth. The haunting of her past united with horrors of the present, taking my Mama away from me to hospitals and psychiatric wards throughout my childhood. As I stood ready to embark on my own right of passage into this maternity society, I felt all too well the weight of motherhood’s mantle. Who was worthy of tending to the formation of another human being when oneself was marred and flawed?

That first long night in the darkened hospital room, my hand traced the fingers and toes of this new little person. Could I do this? The lump in my throat grew. Failure was certain. I was going to let this little boy down. I found it hard to breathe. A Bible lay open on my side table. I ran my hand over the crinkled page, knowing the words that whispered somewhere on that darkened leaf.

Isaiah 40:11
…he gently leads those that have young.

In the dark of that room, that was all I had to cling to: The gracious Shepherd leading this little babe and me on. He would show the way.

The next morning dawned Mother’s Day. My own Mama knocked gently at my door. I smiled shyly as I pulled back the blankets to reveal her first grandchild. We both cried as she rocked him close.
“This is for you,” she quietly offered. I took the bag from her outstretched arm. Inside I found an intricate, homemade cover for our hand-me-down car seat.

“Mama…you must have stayed up all night?!” I marveled, knowing that none of us expected this babe to arrive 4 weeks early.

She nodded.

“Oh, Mom, you must be exhausted. You really shouldn’t have. Really, Mom.” I reached out to embrace her and cradled baby.

She pressed her cheek close to mine.

“Relationships cost,” she whispered. In spite of her own anguishing battles, Mama, time and again, chose to pay the price of relationship.

Taking this hours old person from Mama’s arms, I bundled him into his made-with-love car seat. I held his wee hand…and I knew. I was willing to follow Mama’s lead—the Shepherd’s lead—and pay the price of relationship. Whatever the cost. Wee one already had my heart.

Turning to Mom, I laughed lightly, hoping my levity masked my lingering doubts.

“Think I can do this, Mom?”

Mama took my hand and squeezed.

“It’s not that you aren’t going to blow it, Ann. It’s what you do with it afterwards.”

Over the years, Mama, though good intentioned, had missed events, spoken harshly… disappointed me. Yet my love for her coursed deep and sure. For she had listened and heard my pain. She had simply and humbly owned the failures, apologized for the disappointments, and fervently attempted to pay the cost of relationship.

And over the last decade of mothering, Mama has sung her refrain of assurance to this trembling heart over and over again.

Relationships cost. And it’s not that you aren’t going to blow it. It is what you do with it, when you do.

Yes, there is something more beautiful to experience than a perfect Mother. It is the wonder of experiencing a committed Mother who simply humbles herself. Like that Shepherd who knew the cost of relationship, chose to pay the price, and staggeringly “humbled Himself… even to the point of death on a cross” (Phil 2:8). Out of the ashes and brokenness of our sin, rises the breathtaking exquisiteness of humility and grace, the Cross. And out of the anguish and woundedness of Mama’s life, surfaced a gentle humility and a dogged devotion to relationship. Regardless.

I was now ready to be a Mother and take our new human being home. I understood. Motherhood does not require, thankfully, perfection. It simply requires commitment and humility.

Ready to depart with bag in one hand, I remembered my first Mother’s Day card sitting on the windowsill. I had feared I would never be a Mother’s Day card Mother. Mama had shown me that I didn’t need to be. The faithful Shepherd had indeed shown the way. He was not leading this Mother to be a glossy, embossed Hallmark version of perfection. But rather a committed, humble, real one.

© Ann Voskamp
Ontario, Canada
Holy Experience