Yesterday was the 22nd anniversary of my mother passing. I start this blog this way not to ask for pity, but a simple statement of fact. I'm not a fan of posts bringing light to difficult circumstances as they are often simply cries for attention. However it weighed on my heart so I felt the need to share a bit of myself. Yesterday was a marker of sorts for me...I've now spent twice as much time here on earth without my mom as I had with her. This fact is a realization of sorts for me of a notion I'm coming to realize more and more each passing year: I don't really know who my mom was. Please understand me. I loved my mom, and I remember my mom and all her greatest qualities, how overprotective she was of me, how supportive she was of me, all realizations most 11 year olds have of their moms. But as God forms me into the man he wants me to become, I'm realizing there was so much more to the woman who brought me into this world, none of which I get to experience or learn from her first hand. I still hear stories about her, some I remember, some were far before my time. Each story I identify with, and each story proves I am cut from the very same cloth. However what I miss most is hearing HER perspective on these things. Gaining benefit from HER wisdom! Many of you know I was born in upstate New York. Most of you probably have no idea why. I have no family connections in the Northeast, there were no job opportunities there. I was born in Ithaca New York because of the simple fact that God said go, and my parents listened. My parents had little to no support in this decision. In many cases (which have no place in this blog) they were ridiculed and mocked. Yet my parents sold everything they had except their clothes and a car to drive there, and went. No jobs, no house, little provision, leaving family, familiarity, comfort, and support and they went. My mother paid for that decision for many years. Some of the people closest to my parents were hurt by this seeming disregard for their wishes, and at times lashed out at her. I know this cut very deep, but my mom's convictions never faltered. A few days before she died she shared with me the source of this conviction, while not specifically citing these issues, she shared with me the "secret" behind her walk with God:
Acts 4:13
New International Version (NIV)
This has become my life verse. I want to be so intimate with Jesus that it flows into those around me! I had 11 short years with my mom, but they shaped the man I've become. Not just because I was born to an extraordinary set of parents, but because 5 years previous to my mothers death, I was reborn into the Body of Christ. That's right...April 23rd, 1986 was the day I gave my life to Christ, and April 23rd, 1991 was the day my mother received her eternal reward for leading me there. What a glorious day of celebration I had yesterday, spending the day with my 2 boys that I now have the privilege of extending this legacy of faith to, then going to see their new cousin who was born on this significant day!
Another realization has swept over me. How many of us are comfortable in our walks with Christ. I know a lot of stories about my mom, and I experienced a lot of things with her. Now those are simply memories. I have no way to experience her love, grace, and encouragement. One of my favorite stories is from a football game when I was in the 6th grade. We were playing Sperry (the only team we could beat) and I caught 2 touchdown passes in the game. Now please understand my mother was morbidly obese, through no fault of her own, but she was a big lady, and the game was being filmed by another mother, and when I caught that second pass (which was a pretty fantastic catch by the say...the corner tipped it and somehow I still caught it...but I digress) the camera started shaking and all you could hear was this shreaking noise...after I make it into the end zone and hand the ball to the ref the camera whips around to my mom who is giving everyone around her whiplash because she is jumping up and down on the rickety metal bleachers! I miss that...and I know, many of you would be quick to remind me that she is up in heaven cheering me and Titus, and Isaac along...but that's not nearly as comforting as seeing her in the stands. I have no choice in this matter. She's gone from this temporal earth, to be present with the Father...the Father...why are we so quick to forget about Him? The One who is constantly pursuing us, constantly encouraging us by His Holy Spirit, constantly and over abundantly forgiving us...why do I sometimes have this same relationship with the Father that I have with my mom? This is my choice. His voice seems so distant sometimes...not because He IS distant, but because I've distanced myself from Him. All of these fantastic memories of committment, love, grace, and forgiveness I have of my mom PALE in comparison to the grace offerings our Father has in store for us! What was special about my mother? nothing...aside from the Father! May we always ever be reminded of who we are in Christ.
Matthew 6:33
New International Version (NIV)
Colossians 3:1-4
New International Version (NIV)
I would not be who I am without the influence of my mom...but more importantly I would be nowhere near who I need to be without the Father. I miss her, I miss being able to be advised by her wisdom. But I know the source of her wisdom and strength and take comfort that I am led by the same source! Praise be to God for His provisions of grace and continual comfort!
I would like to ask a special favor...if you've read this and knew my mom, please send me stories...I would like to put a collection together for my boys...but I also would enjoy hearing stories I perhaps hadn't heard before! Thanks in advance!
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