Brothers – I have three. Never had had sisters and always wanted one. Fortunately, I do have two sisters-in-law married to two of those brothers who have given me that sweet experience of sisters for life. [Another amazing sister-in-law thanks to my husband’s brother].
Now, back to my brothers.
[L to R; Dwane, Wade, and Robert]
One died too young, and we miss him. Our older brother, Robert, died of a “shredded aorta”. The surgeon who operated for hours to save his life told our family they were able to repair the aorta but couldn’t get him off bypass. He was just too tired.
Today is his birthday. He would have been 79 but died at 61.
Life was hard for my brother, Robert, twice divorced and struggling with health issues that diminished him. He coped not well by blaming the hard on others. His siblings took some of the brunt of it…his children and parents also. However, we learned especially from our mom’s example that loving him mattered. Two friends of mine, in separate conversations, gave me excellent advice: “Hurt people hurt people… deflect the attacks and lean in anyway.” I learned what the buttons were that Robert pushed for me and “deactivated” them. I wanted our relationship to survive. Somehow, when I didn’t react to his put-downs or temper outbursts, he just stopped trying to engage in that way. What if I had walked away and given up on him, on us. Thankfully, we had time…not as much as we would have liked, but time…to be close, to laugh over memories, to share the daily small victories, to long together for better days, to make plans for those days. I learned so much from him on dealing with challenge and not giving up.
One day I will tell him.
My two “little brothers”, Dwane and Wade, have benefited from what we learned from our older brother. We three have always had strong opinions like our big brother, but less argumentative and more gentle. Now that our parents are gone, we hold together, somewhat imperfectly. Not any of us living in the same state has made closeness more challenging. However, I can’t imagine any disagreement ever separating us from each other. We are family and I am so thankful for them.
How about you?
Sometimes we lose a parent (or both) through divorce or death. We are with our siblings for most all of our lives. They help shape us for life. They know us differently than any one else in the world.
My extended family lives far from me. Every trip to gather, every phone call and text message mean the world.
Let’s celebrate our families while we have them. None are perfect. Some are exceptionally difficult. We have much to learn – from our original families – to live well in our own next families…and to love well, even through the hard.
Remembering Robert today. His passion, his joy in the simple things, his longing for family closeness, his persevering in the hard. He had a temper, too, but it calmed as he got older and nearer to death (although he didn’t know it was coming). So thankful for the life we shared and the time we had. I will never forget. So grateful that his faith in God was restored in the end and we will see each other in Heaven. Until then…
[Robert and his tiny granddaughter][Robert & his little niece Christie, all grown-up now][Robert with his daughter Stephanie and grandchildren Stephen and Erica][Robert with our good friend, Heba, who saw his heart and helped us not to miss it]
Years ago, when I was a little girl in a small Baptist church in the South, all the ladies wore flowers to church on Mother’s Day. White flowers if our mothers were no longer living, and red flowers if they were still with us. Flowers still mark the celebration of Mother’s Day. However, much has changed in how we commemorate moms.
In recent years, family estrangement has become a thing. Boundaries another thing. Not everyone has a positive relationship with their mothers. It is sad really. The bond between us and those who birthed and raised us can tragically be shadowed by trauma. Then there are the post-modern issues of fewer marriages and fewer children and increasing incidence of infertility and decreasing adoptions.
So…there’s that. Still I want to celebrate and remember moms. Mothers matter. Mothering can also be beautifully accomplished by grandmothers, aunts, and friends of the family. Thankful for those as well.
[In the links below, you will find other blogs I have written on moms and mothering. Some of what follows has been pulled from those blogs.]
In celebration of Mother’s Day, here are some sweet salutes to all of you who mother well…it’s a long and beautiful journey through life.
“Go to battle, my friend. You are mighty, because you mother! Happy Mother’s Day to Mighty Mothers everywhere! Motherhood is Kingdom business, Jesus work. This shaping of souls, this raising tiny humans…Motherhood is anything but ordinary. You are mighty because you mother!” – Lisa-Jo Baker
“You are braver than you know…because you mother.” I thank God for the mothers in my life – some with children, some without but who love that deeply.
Those Other Mothers – Shout-out to those other mothers. You’ve heard the expression guys at times use: “Brothers from another mother”. I’d like to focus a moment on those other mothers. Our mom was that “other mother” for some. She was a treasure – loving, sacrificing, praying for us, grieving our pain with us, and taking joy in us…and those many others God dropped into her life and she simply loved.
The other mothers I want to celebrate today are the mothers-in-law in our lives. My mom is gone…but my mom-in-law, Julia, is still with us and I am so grateful. She, from a distance away, partnered with my mom in teaching me about loving well my husband and children…
With two children married, I am blessed with two co-moms-in-law. This was an unexpected joy – to be able to know and call as friends these two women. They are faithful in loving my children (and our grands) and I hope they see me as that with their treasures. We count on each other…and celebrate every milestone. Prayer warriors together for our kiddos.
Becky & Karen
The last two “other mothers” are the mommies of our grands – our daughter and daughter-in-love. Seeing how they love and parent the littles is a great joy for us. They themselves are a great joy. Happy Mother’s Day, Girls. You are both wonders!
Bekkah & Christie
How about you? Are there other mothers in your lives who inspire or spur you on (whether they have kids themselves or not)? Share in the Comments if you choose.
An Old Story – “I remember, when I was a boy, watching a dog fight. A little dog of uncertain lineage, and not built for war, sailed into the street to engage in an argument that bade fair to enlist all the canines of legal age in the neighborhood. I remember watching the little fellow as he tried out the fight for a few minutes only to turn tail and make for his own yard. I was just marking him down for a coward when he reached his front gate, stopped a minute for breath, and returned for the fray. I think he must have run home three or four times during the fight to rest for a moment and then go back with redoubled energy…There are many times when I can keep on only by taking a fresh start from my own fireside…That is one thing home does, and that is one thing for which most of our mothers will be remembered.“ – Umphrey Lee, in William H. Leach compilation: Sermon Hearts From the Gospels, pp. 173-174, 1934
A Mama’s Lament – “Slow Down” – “I don’t know of a more uttered or whispered phrase from a mother of any age, about her child of any age, than ‘It’s going by too fast.’ I feel like I spend my life trying to slow time. Trying to celebrate the growth and the milestones of my children, and then secretly day dreaming about building a time machine in my garage, so I can return to rocking my babies at midnight. If you’ve ever looked at your child running across a field, or striding across a graduation stage, or walking down the middle aisle of a church clutching a bouquet, you’ll know why this song is special to me. Please enjoy the video below, remembering the moments we wish we could slow down, and sharing them with those we love most.” – Nichole Nordeman
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. – Genesis 1:26-27
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” – Jesus – Matthew 11:28-30
“Everyone the Father gives me will come to me, and the one who comes to me I will never cast out.” – Jesus – John 6:37
So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” – John 8:31-32
We are created in the image of God. Astounding fact! That means we are hard-wired for goodness and beauty, love and creativity, mercy and justice. Our problem then? Sin. From the beginning, sin has seeded our nature with self-serving and the warped sense that we belong to ourselves not to the God who knows and loves us perfectly. Apart from surrendering ourselves to His lordship, we attempt to live fragmented with bits of His DNA at work in us but far from what He had in mind for us…far from the freedom we can have in Christ’s forgiveness.
This brings us to the beautiful story Jesus told of the prodigal son. In this parable, Jesus brings into focus the lives and relationships of three men – a father and his two sons. The younger son rejected the life his father had for him and chose to sever himself from him. He asked for his inheritance and his father let him go to what would become a life of debauchery…living loosely on the means he did not earn, except by his lineage from his father. The older son stayed with his father, serving him (and tending his own future) as before. The father was heart-broken, and, although it isn’t written, maybe the older son went looking for the younger son to bring him back home. Or maybe he did not. We don’t know. Once the money ran out, the younger son found himself alone and hungry, without relationship or worth. Shame and regret were his only companions. He decided to return to his father asking for his mercy. Was he truly contrite and repentant – we can’t know his heart. He for sure wanted relief from the constant distress he endured, consequence of his poor choices. As he came, his father recognized him, from far off, as if he never stopped looking for his return. The father came running to receive him, welcoming him back home. The older brother? Not so much. In his own self-righteousness, the older brother did not rejoice, even when it pained his father’s heart that he had such a response. Being a good father has its own anguish, and we should always remember that in our love for God and in our treatment of those He loves.
Singer, songwriter Brandon Lake just released his latest single “Daddy’s DNA”. It’s a beautiful, honest confession of a prodigal (most likely some of which is Lake’s own story).
I thought the world had something special I was missing My daddy told me not to chase it, I didn’t listen I fell downhill a mile a minute Before I knew it, I was livin’ In a pig sty a long, long way from home
I went runnin’ like a rebel Racked up debts I couldn’t pay I went dancing with the devil With one foot in the grave How the Heaven did I get here? Went and threw it all away All I’ve given You was trouble All You’ve given me was grace
And the freedom I was chasing felt like prison Lord, I’ve done so many things, wish I didn’t And after all the risky business Could I ever be forgiven? I’m afraid to even ask to come back home
‘Cause I went runnin’ like a rebel Racked up debts I couldn’t pay I went dancing with the devil With one foot in the grave How the Heaven did I get here? Went and threw it all away All I’ve given You was trouble All You’ve given me is grace Given me was grace
When I sobered up, and came back to my senses I was too far gone to make up all the distance I gambled all that I’d been given I was broke, alone and wishing That I could turn around and go back home When I heard the sound of footsteps down the road
And You came runnin’ like a rebel Paid off debts I couldn’t pay You went dancing with the devil Sent that liar to his grave How the Heaven did I get here? Where every sin has been erased All I’ve given You was trouble All You’ve given me is grace
There was something in the marrow Always coursing through my veins Buried deeper than the rubble Is My Daddy’s DNA*
I love this song. The bridge (or benediction?) at the end really gave me pause. We do have the Lord’s DNA in us…what we do with that has eternal consequence. Either we think it is really our DNA and we can live our lives for ourselves, our own ambition and pleasure, and our own perceived destinies…or we recognize Whose we are and what we need to do to alter course and take on the life we were meant to have. That is where joy and freedom really lie. To recognize the prodigal nature in all of us and to return Home to a Father who came for us, in Jesus, and continues to come for us through the Holy Spirit at work in our lives.
My prayer is that His DNA is on beautiful display in all who call Him Father.
Too much of life and culture these days is polarizing. It may have always been so. Good guys and bad guys. Heroes and villains. Liberals and conservatives. Secular and religious. The list goes on forever.
When I woke this morning, many of these ideas and conflicts were bouncing around in my brain. Then the idea came to mind: “Not Us and Them, but We.” What can grow our capacity for civil discourse? How can we nurture curiosity in our thinking, especially in communication with those who have very different ideas than we might have? What moves us toward understanding rather than acting on the motivation to move “them” to think like “us”?
Often in the last several weeks, in particular, conversations either center on politics, or it’s “the elephant in the room”. Fortunately I have friends who differ from me in some of our political views but they seek to understand, which gives me the same potential for my understanding their views.
Organizational psychologist and author, Adam Grant, often points to the distractions that keep us divided or on edge with each other. He gives wise counsel.
I also have friends who have pretty much ghosted me over the same views. Conversation is just too emotionally charged. Too anxiety-provoking. I respect that, but I also miss the possibility of learning from them and dialoging together such that both of us can see things from a higher vantage point.
Writer, leadership coach Scott Sauls posted an article just this weekend that resonates with this very current issue. Without really focusing on politics, he expands the idea of differences to incorporate our stances on all of life…and on people with whom we have conflict. In fact, he points to three identities we may have for ourselves and others, and how those identities keep us divided against each other. Below are quotes from this article – click on the link to read all the wisdom found there. Still a quick read.
“Family, work, team, tribe, church, community, and nation—every sphere of life has its culture, and in each one, we assign roles. We naturally place people or groups into the categories of victim, villain, or hero to suit our own biases. Sometimes, one person or group is cast in all three roles, as we seek to simplify complex situations and deflect blame away from ourselves.”
“In almost every conflict, we instinctively conclude that someone is hurt, someone is to blame, and someone must intervene to make things right. These roles are common in the stories we read, the movies we watch, the news we consume, and the communities we are part of. But victim, villain, and hero are also the roles we quietly assign to ourselves and others as we navigate difficult relationships and painful experiences.”
“The Peril of Playing the Victim – When we assume the role of victim as our primary identity, we risk trapping ourselves in a story of bitterness and self-pity. We replay the wrongs done to us over and over, feeding a narrative that makes the presumed offender larger than life and ourselves perpetually powerless. Over time, the victim mindset tempts us to believe that others are responsible for our misery and that our healing depends almost entirely on their repentance or punishment.”
“The Peril of Casting Others as Villains – If playing the victim is one danger, the second is casting others as villains. When someone wrongs us, it is easy to reduce them to their very worst moment or season, and to nothing more than the sum of their sins. They are no longer a whole person with complexities, struggles, and good qualities—they are simply “the one who hurt me.” We judge them harshly, as though their worst moment defines their entire character, while conveniently minimizing our own flaws…The labels we assign—especially when shaped by our pain—often obscure the truth.”
“The Peril of Seeing Ourselves or Others as Heroes – Another dangerous role to assume is that of the hero. Heroes see life in black and white—good versus bad, victims versus villains—and position themselves as the ones who can fix it all. Sometimes, this looks like trying to rescue others from pain, taking on burdens that aren’t ours. Other times, it looks like moral superiority: we believe we’re the righteous ones who would never behave like “those people,” and our role is to rescue others from “them.” Still other times, people want to step in as heroes to protect themselves from the wrath of “victims” who are known for punishing and persecuting those who refuse to rescue them from their “villains.””
Sauls ends his post with the Gospel of Jesus Christ being the better story:
“The gospel dismantles the victim, villain, and hero roles by telling a different story—one where Jesus is the only one who can truly make things right. It teaches us that:
If we are in fact victims, we are seen, loved, and cared for by a God who is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). But our healing is not dependent on human justice; it is rooted in the grace of God, who works all things together for good (Romans 8:28).
As those who have been wronged, we must forgive as we have been forgiven (Ephesians 4:32). Forgiveness does not deny the reality of harm, and it does not grant trust where trust has not been reestablished through repentance, reconciliation, and sincere efforts to repair, but it releases us from the burden of bitterness and entrusts justice to God.
As those tempted to self-righteousness and pride, we are reminded that we, too, have sinned and that our salvation is a gift, not a reward (Romans 3:24). Paul’s rhetorical question and subsequent answer—“Are we any better? Absolutely not” (Romans 6:15)!—become relevant for us, as well.
When we let go of the victim, villain, and hero mindsets, we step into a life shaped by humility, grace, and reconciliation. Humility reminds us that we are all broken and in need of mercy. Grace empowers us to forgive others as we have been forgiven. And reconciliation—where possible—invites us to repair what is broken and pursue peace.” – Scott Sauls
Where do you see yourself in these scenarios? Do we view ourselves as the hero, fighting for others? Or are we the victim and see another (person or party) as the villain?
Thoughtful disagreement doesn’t start with “You’re wrong!” It begins with “I’d love to understand your thinking better.” Attacking conclusions closes minds. Asking about reasoning opens them. Good debates don’t have winners or losers. They leave everyone more informed. – Adam Grant, X
My husband often puts one of his favorite adages – “We are better than me.” – in work conversations, especially those related to drifting into silo thinking. So much better than where we often find ourselves, if we’re not intentional, which is an “us and them” mentalities. Unfortunately, the “us” is too often deemed better than “them”. Whenever we can, let’s work toward getting “the us’s” to talk to “the them’s” with the goal of becoming “a we”. I know this might seem less complicated in a work situation when an employer mandates this sort of action. However, it is also possible in families, friend groups, and communities which have become fractured because of a rift or rupture. We can be hopeful if we’re willing to be humble, forgiving, curious, and full of grace. God will definitely grease the tracks in that direction.
“Seeing every interaction as win-lose isn’t smart. It’s shortsighted. Evidence: People who view others’ gains as their loss see potential allies as hostile and miss out on productive collaborations. In the long run, the best path to success and happiness is striving for win-win.” – Adam Grant, X
A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. – Proverbs 18:24
A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. – Proverbs 17:17
Iron sharpens iron, and one person sharpens another. – Proverbs 27:17
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken. – Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. – Jesus – John 15:13-15
I have written about friends often through the years. A LOT. As a very imperfect friend myself, God has graced me with good and strong friendships over my lifetime. Some of those friends are family. Most are not related by blood, but by heart and purpose. I am forever grateful.
Our son Nathan took me out to breakfast for my birthday. He is not only family but a cherished friend. He can be so funny, and yet our conversations seem to always go to the serious side of life. Probably because I’m on the other side of the table.
During this meal together, we talked some about friends and about family. Mostly about friends. What sorts of friendships make it through our lifetimes? What sort of friend do we want to be? We talked about speaking truth to each other “in love”, about shouldering each other’s burdens, about giving grace and seeking understanding, about long-suffering, and about when and if a season is over in a friendship.
I wish you could have been able to hear the wisdom he shared with his mama. Ours is a friendship that I believe will weather any storm, for which I am grateful. I pray that I won’t cause him pain or put pressure on him because of some sort of selfish ambition. He, like a treasured few others in family and community, is a picture of Jesus in my life.
Friendships take time, and we only have a finite bit of that. How do we measure out our time? Or our hearts and minds, for that matter? Some friendships are (in the common vernacular) “a life suck”. They aren’t easy to stay in. Especially when there is emotional (even spiritual) pain as a fruit of those relationships. These sorts of relationships probably generated the terms “toxic” and “boundaries”, and I get it.
My hope for him and the rest of our family is to keep Christ the Lord of our friendships. He will guide us through them, and if necessary, away from them. Across this longish life of mine, I’ve had hard friendships, some of which couldn’t weather our differences. Some friends have stuck with me, even when they received little back, for which I’m forever grateful. These friends (some of whom are also family) have encouraged me to do better and have affirmed my own commitment to be present, when possible.
Today, I came across a gem of poetry by writer Molly Burford. She entitles the piece “Types of People You Need to hang On To (Parts 1 and 2)”. Her words inspire both the kind of friend to be and the kind of friendship to nurture. We do NOT want to take for granted such people in our lives.
In the afterglow of breakfast with Nathan, alone again working at home, I was reminded of Michael W. Smith‘s old, old song “Friends”, written in the 80s. His wife, Debbie, actually wrote the lyrics, and he composed the music. It’s a song about letting go of friends – not the friendship but the nearness of them (either if they have relocated or gone to be with the Father).
One of the lines is so compelling: “Friends are friends forever, if the Lord’s the Lord of them.” We can have complicated friendships and we only have so much time…true friendships can endure distance and differences. Especially if the Lord covers them. That is key.
Another line always gives me goosebumps (and one day tears, when I get them back – that’s another story): “a lifetime’s not too long to live as friends“. We may not always be as close as we would like – between the pull of a 24-hour day and other relationships that require our attention. However, we can hope to be friends forever…given great grace.
I am deeply grateful for those forever friends in my life – some from my family and some who have chosen to be family. You know who you are. Thank you.
Packing up the dreams God planted In the fertile soil of you I can’t believe the hopes He’s granted Means a chapter of your life is through
[Pre-Chorus] But we’ll keep you close as always It won’t even seem you’ve gone ‘Cause our hearts in big and small ways Will keep the love that keeps us strong
[Chorus] And friends are friends forever If the Lord’s the Lord of them And a friend will not say never ‘Cause the welcome will not end Though it’s hard to let you go In the Father’s hands we know That a lifetime’s not too long To live as friends
And with the faith and love God’s given Springing from the hope we know We will pray the joy you live in Is the strength that now you show
[Pre-Chorus] But we’ll keep you close as always It won’t even seem you’ve gone (It won’t seem you’ve gone) ‘Cause our hearts in big and small ways Will keep the love that keeps us strong Yeah, yeah
[Chorus] And friends are friends forever If the Lord’s the Lord of them And a friend will not say never ‘Cause the welcome will not end Though it’s hard to let you go In the Father’s hands we know That a lifetime’s not too long To live as friends
And friends are friends forever If the Lord’s the Lord of them (The lord-) And a friend will not say never (It will never say-) ‘Cause the welcome will not end (Ooh) Though it’s hard to let you go In the Father’s hands we know That a lifetime’s not too long To live as friends To live as friends
[Outro] Though it’s hard to let you go In the Father’s hands we know That a lifetime’s not too long To live as friends No a lifetime’s not too long To live as friends
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. – James 1:17
For most of 20 years, we lived in North Africa where a Thanksgiving holiday was a foreign concept. “Eid el Shukr” (“Feast of Thanks” in Arabic) was understood but not a day set aside. We, along with other expat Americans, brought Thanksgiving with us and invited our local friends into the experience. On the surface, American Thanksgiving has pretty much three constant components – food, family, and football.
Back in the States, the old traditions are changing and yet stay sweetly familiar. My Mom, who always laid out an incredible Southern-style feast on the kitchen counter at home in Georgia, is no longer with us. As with some of you, I’m sure, I miss her still every day and how she lavished love on us through these family times together. Our children are grown now and establishing their own traditions with more families and friends added into the mix. Each year, we find ourselves re-working our own traditions as well.
Thanksgiving is again, for many of us, all about food, family, and football…but there’s also another element…faith… I am grateful every day for the kindnesses of God and those he’s placed in our lives. Celebrating Thanksgiving allows us to put an exclamation point on being grateful. It’s not just about a table full of food, although food is clearly a focal point. Thanksgiving, even as a national holiday and not a religious one, focuses our sight beyond ourselves. There is an object in Thanksgiving beyond ourselves.
Over 50 years ago, a funky little Broadway musical was turned into a film – Godspell. It was an adaptation of the life of Jesus according to the Gospel of Matthew. At that time, I was in the season of life that young people pass through of searching out what exactly I believed. It wasn’t going well at that time. Praise God, He did not forget me during those days when I had all but forgotten Him. Watching the film Godspell was one of the occasions God used to wake me up. There’s a wonder and delight in the young followers of Jesus in the musical. It reminded me of what I had once with God…and what could be again.
All the songs in the musical Godspell are lovely. Composer and lyricist, Stephen Schwartz, beautifully captured some of Jesus’ teaching and the depth of love and rightness between Him, His followers, and creation, in general. All Good Gifts, adapted from an old hymn, is one such song and is a pure and proper doxology of praise for Thanksgiving.
Worship with me.
All Good Gifts* We plow the fields and scatter the good seed on the land.. But it is fed and watered by God’s almighty hand.. He sends us snow in winter, the warmth to swell the grain… The breezes and the sunshine, and soft refreshing rain…
All good gifts around us Are sent from Heaven above Then thank the Lord, thank the Lord for all his love…
We thank thee then, O Father, for all things bright and good, The seedtime and the harvest, our life our health our food, No gifts have we to offer for all thy love imparts But that which thou desirest, our humble thankful hearts!
All good gifts around us Are sent from Heaven above.. Then thank the Lord, thank the Lord for all his love..
I really wanna thank you Lord! All good gifts around us Are sent from Heaven above.. Then thank the Lord, oh thank the Lord for all his love..
Food – Family Favorites in Mom’s Kitchen Football – on T.V. or out on the street with cousins and friendsFamily – Time together…savoring every minute
Happy Thanksgiving…
Oh…just in case Thanksgiving is a struggle…and it isn’t all happy family fun…I pray you take courage and rein in your heart to remember that God sees and loves you. We can be a Thanksgiving blessing to each other…if you’ve read this far…you are a blessing to me. Wish you were at our table…maybe one day you will be. You are definitely welcome at God’s table.
We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed – always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. – 2 Corinthians 4:7-10
My Mom was a young 72 when she was diagnosed with cancer. A year younger than I am right now. We were overseas at the time, and I wanted so to be home with her. She was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma – supposedly “the best kind of cancer you can have”. Highly treatable. Long remissions. Often cured. Mom would still die after 3 years of intensive, and sometimes experimental, chemotherapy. She never caught a break. Yet, she didn’t look at it that way.
Her journey with God in those days was other-worldly. The Mom I knew loved to serve people, and cancer would not stop that. She had grown up poor and with a dad who could be mean when he drank. She dreamed of college but it was never meant to be. Instead she became a student of life, and she never tired of that. She was a beautiful blend of Mary and Martha – wholly satisfied whether “sitting at the feet of Jesus” or serving the needs of those around her. I love that she was my Mom.
She taught me how to live…and she taught me how to die. We were home in the States when Mom’s cancer finished its course in her. She never spent a night in the hospital throughout those three years. She stubbornly guarded her time at home and had the will and the support (of my Dad, family and friends) to endure from home…and there was God, holding her tight against the storm.
Mom never prayed for healing, but we did. Mom prayed that this cancer, the illness and all that was part of it (including a devastating Shingles-related neuralgia), would bring glory to God. Her prayer was answered, and ours, ultimately, in Heaven.
Her dying took three days. If you had known my Mom, you knew a person that was all about life – helping and encouraging others, pointing them to God, determined, in faith, to make sense of what seemed utter nonsense. She continued to be about that until she went into a coma the last day. While she was awake that final weekend, I asked her (over and again) how she was. One time, I remember, she nodded a bit, and whispered, “I’m O.K.” It was her face that spoke volumes. Forehead lifted, blue eyes bright, an almost sunny expression. That “I’m O.K.” was accompanied by an almost delighted look of marvel…of wonder. Like, “Wow! I really am O.K.!” God was meeting her at the point of her greatest need.
Mom and I have always had amazing talks about the deep things of God and life. She told me one time that she envied us our certainty of His call to a life overseas. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard God speak so clearly to me,” she lamented. In the last days of her life, it came to me to ask her if she heard God speak to her lately. She answered right away, with that same look of wonder, “All the time!” If cancer had to be the instrument of such grace, then it became a gift to her.
Mom entered Eternity during the reading of 2 Corinthians 4:7-10 (see above). Her young pastor and his wife came unexpectedly that evening, rushing in, wide-eyed, as if on a mission. We brought them back to her room, and they sat with us, around her bed. She had been unresponsive all day. Her pastor opened his Bible and began reading. Mom had this sweet habit of knitting her forehead and shaking her head, in response to something that touched her heart. As he read, after being quiet and still all day, she knit her forehead and breathed her last. We all felt transfigured in that moment.
Today marks 22 years since Mom went to be with the Lord, and I miss her today and every day. She was so spent when she left us, yet gloriously whole at the same time. A bit of prose from Henry Van Dyke always comes to mind in thinking of her Homegoing.
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side. And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me — not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”
Mom taught us how to live…and she taught us how to die. She “fought the good fight…finished the race…and kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7). For us, there is still a race to be run.
Thanks, Mom, for showing us how it’s done. See you at the Finish Line.
When it’s all been said and done There is just one thing that matters: Did I do my best to live for truth, did I live my life for You? When it’s all been said and done All my treasures will mean nothing Only what I’ve done for love’s reward Will stand the test of time.
Lord, Your mercy is so great That You look beyond our weakness And find purest gold in miry clay Making sinners into saints
I will always sing Your praise Here on earth and ever after For You’ve shown me Heaven’s my true home When it’s all been said and done You’re my life when life is gone.
“They did the best they could.” This statement usually follows a description of one’s hard childhood, lack of closeness to one or both parents, or attachment or addiction issues in adulthood. For some, this may be an attempt to pull back from blaming our parents. When we become curious about our childhood, we also find ourselves curious about our parents’ childhood…and their parents. Blaming really gets us nowhere. What we have available to us these days in terms of mental and relational health is so much more than our parents had available to them.
My parents may have done the best they could. For sure, they did what they knew to do. I think of my mom sometimes. What a difference it would have made in her own life to have access to the helps we have today! And she was a good mom. She, my absent biological father, and my beloved step-dad all made mistakes in parenting. I sure did, as well. In many ways, I wish I could go back and change some things. My kids and I have talked about this. In their graciousness, they have released me from the less-than-best parenting I did. Still, it requires me to forgive myself.
[Sidebar: one of my children reminded me that generations of parents have had the Bible as a guidebook and it is full of wisdom. When I talk about present-day helps, I mean experts in the fields of science and medicine who have added to our application of Biblical truth. Curt Thompson, MD is one of those experts.]
Where am I going with this? Last week, I attended my first Connections conference. It is sponsored by the Center for Being Known (CBK), and Curt Thompson is the founder of CBK. Curt also chairs the podcast Being Known with Pepper Sweeney and Amy Cella. That podcast has been like a masterclass for me. So good! Curt is also an accomplished writer, and I’ve read all his books! He is easy to read and has literally changed my life…changed my thinking on so many things – how the brain was created, how we can rewire it after trauma, how we can reframe memory, how we can deal with shame in healthy ways, how we can flourish in community. So many things!
Below you will find some quotes from his books. During the conference, a powerpoint was running between sessions with these and many more quotes displayed. So rich…and delightful to be reminded of these truths. Whatever your background and wherever you are in life, his books will change your life as they have mine.
I will revisit the content from this Connections conference (“Imagination to Incarnation”) on another day. For now, I just wanted to whet your appetite for the possibility of healing, even in the face of childhood trauma, family estrangement, anxiety, depression, isolation and shame.
Whatever your situation, there is help. We can’t go back, but we can go forward. We can reframe memories. We can repair breaches in relationships. We can tell our stories to people who care about us. We can name our struggle. We can begin again.
These are not just lofty ideas. I sat in a room with 450 or so others who are doing the work of healing. Of being better, even doing better. It was a beautiful, hopeful experience.
Postscript: The speakers from this Connections conference and the promo for Connections 2025.
When I was a little girl, God showed Himself to be a Father to me. At that time, my family had some hard days. My mother took care of us, and she was always working. I wanted to help her and tried always to be good. Even as a young child, I found it was impossible for me to be good all the time. I felt bad when my brothers and I quarreled which made my mom sad. We began going to a church when I was five or 6. It was the first time hearing about God’s love for us, no matter what. I was relieved to learn that everybody has the same problem of trying unsuccessfully to be good. The Bible says that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). How can we know a holy God then? How can we be reconciled to Him? In His mercy, He provided a way….a Saviour. Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, the life. No one comes to the Father but by me” (John 14:6). As I learned more about God, and how He revealed Himself to us through His Word, Jesus, I wanted to give my life to Him…. To serve Him; to be His child.
At 9 years of age, I asked Jesus to forgive my sins and to come into my heart. My older brother and I came to faith around the same time, and we were baptized together in a sawmill pond near our church.
I’ve been in relationship with God now over 60 years, and every day I am more grateful for His love and power in my life. He is my Lord and my God…and My Father forever.
There are three significant spiritual markers in my life after coming to faith in Christ.
1) At 14y/o, at a youth retreat, around a campfire, we were challenged to examine our lives to see if we were ready to meet God that night. I knew I wasn’t ready because my life, as a teen, didn’t reflect a life surrendered to Him. I did business with the Lord again that night (“rededication” would be the word used in those days).
2) At 18y/o, I went to a very liberal university, in my home state of Georgia, and although I’d felt prepared spiritually for entering college life, my faith took a beating. Confronted often by secular, and sometimes hostile, classmates made me timid…and then I went into a season of living almost two lives – deceived and deceitful – serving in my church as a youth worker, and then living a worldly life at college and for a few years after college. In my mid-20’s, the LORD got hold of my heart again, thanks to the persevering love of a Godly friend. After that, I never looked back. The LORD had captured my heart, and I knew there was no other life for me but to follow Him completely.
3) The third spiritual marker came in my late 30’s, but before sharing that, I can say that life with the LORD had become an incredible journey. In my late 20’s, I served college students in a large church in Atlanta. It was also a great blessing for me to go on several summer missions trips, doing evangelism and construction projects — Mexico, the Philippines, and Haiti. During this time, I was applying to mission agencies, and seeking God’s direction. After a particularly difficult summer in Haiti, I put the applications on hold, because it seemed I wasn’t really ready (mature enough?) for overseas service. Without going into further detail, I ended up moving to Connecticut for a teaching job, working in a Southern Baptist church plant there, and meeting David. We married, he finished his PhD, we moved to Tennessee, and had 3 children — Christie, Nathan, & Daniel (he came to us through adoption, but was “born” into our family in Tennessee).
All during these years, I was seeking the LORD and serving Him in some capacity or another — leading discipleship groups or prayer groups or being involved in local missions. However, with the weight of responsibility of marriage and then children, and trying to continue being connected with my professional life and service in church….the joy went out of my life. I questioned my salvation, because it seemed there was just no power for my life in Christ. I knew He wasn’t at fault, so it must have been me. Well, long story short: I happened upon the Experiencing God (Henry Blackaby) Bible study and the LORD really did a work of healing in my life through that. In that study, He began correcting some of my thinking about living victoriously in Christ. Then about that same time, Dave and I attended a conference on spiritual revival with Henry Blackaby and Richard Owen Roberts….and the Holy Spirit so moved in my heart that I have never again questioned my salvation. So grateful for His grace.
A few years after this, Dave experienced a call to overseas service, and then our calls were joined (mine coming to fruition many years later than I’d first thought). Seeing GOD work in impossible situations has enlarged our faith and gratitude to Him for His love that will not let go. We’ve see the work of the Cross in the lives of people who were far from GOD, as well as in some who thought they were doing all the right religious things, but really didn’t know GOD. It’s been amazing to watch GOD draw people to Himself…some through very difficult situations. Yet He moved in and through those situations to redeem people to Himself.
In recent years, we have encountered all the too usual challenges of life – illness, deaths of loved ones, broken relationships, family struggles, altered dreams. Yet the beautiful constant has been Jesus.
Wherever you are in your faith walk, if you know Jesus as the One who made a way for you to come back to the Father, then you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you’re going through hard times or you think you’ve lost your way back to Him…turn your face to Him. He is closer than you think.
Worship with me to Anne Wilson‘s anthem of praise to her Jesus, “My Jesus”, written when she was a teen and her older brother was killed in an accident.
Are you past the point of weary?
Is your burden weighing heavy?
Is it all too much to carry?
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
Do you feel that empty feeling?
‘Cause shame’s done all its stealing
And you’re desperate for some healing
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus[Chorus]
He makes a way where there ain’t no way
Rises up from an empty grave
Ain’t no sinner that He can’t save
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
His love is strong and His grace is free
And the good news is I know that He
Can do for you what He’s done for me
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
And let my Jesus change your life[Post-Chorus]
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, amen, amen
[Verse 2]
Who can wipe away the tears
From broken dreams and wasted years
And tell the past to disappear? Oh
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
And all the wrong turns that you would
Go and undo if you could
Who can work it all for your good
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
[Chorus]
He makes a way where there ain’t no way
Rises up from an empty grave
Ain’t no sinner that He can’t save
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
His love is strong and His grace is free
And the good news is I know that He
Can do for you what He’s done for me
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
And let my Jesus change your life[Post-Chorus]
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, amen, amen
Amen[Bridge]
Who would take my cross to Calvary?
Pay the price for all my guilty?
Who would care that much about me?
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus, oh
[Chorus]
He makes a way where there ain’t no way
Rises up from an empty grave
Ain’t no sinner that He can’t save
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
His love is strong and His grace is free
And the good news is I know that He
Can do for you what He’s done for me
Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus
And let my Jesus change your life
[Post-Chorus]
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, amen, amen
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah (Amen, amen)
Let my Jesus change your life*
Yesterday, a young woman very dear to me gave a tribute to her grandfather at his memorial service. What she said was beautiful and honoring as she said goodbye (for now) to a man who loved her deeply, as she also loved him. She shared her short talk with me, and it reminded me of the precious gift of good fathering. [I’ve written several times on fathering. It’s a hard job, maybe even harder than mothering.]
Reading her talk, she spoke of a grandfather who treasured her. As a grandparent, I understand how easy it is to just love our grandchildren. The raising, training up, civilizing of children is long and arduous, but the joy of grandchildren, both little and grown, usually requires little from us. Still to have a good father as a grandparent is a great blessing. I know this young one will miss him terribly.
Being a good father is a daunting task, especially for men whose own fathers were absent or punishing (maybe from their own sense of inadequacy or pain). As women, we are allowed to cry and vent our struggles to other women. With men, the message is too often to ignore the emotions that are hard to control or to strike out in anguish when facing disappointment or failure. I can’t imagine really.
Today, I heard of Jason O. Wilson for the first time. He is a martial arts instructor but much more. For decades, he has mentored young boys (and their fathers). Scrolling through X (formerly Twitter), I came across this quote on some of his teaching:
It’s impossible to overstate how important it is for a child to hear these words from their dad:
I’m here for you.
I love you.
I’m proud of you.
Speak them as often as you can. [v/c to the incredible @mrjasonowilson. I dare you watch his videos without tearing up.]
Having grown up himself with no father in the home, he founded Cave of Adullam. That’s the name of Jason Wilson’s transformational training academy.
Cave of Adullam is identified in the Bible as a place of refuge for David. In that period of Israel’s history, King Saul was trying to kill David, but David refused to kill the King even when he had several opportunities.
Wilson’s teaching and mentoring is like nothing I’ve seen before. He teaches discipline, but his main focus is for the boys to know they are loved. Their fathers are as much a part of their training as they are.
If you’re a dad or grandfather and you’re reading this, you obviously are invested in fathering. It is never too late to connect with your children and grandchildren. It may be uncomfortable and even unwelcome. We live in an era of family estrangement. However, you will never regret trying or starting over, if given the opportunity. As we reach out to our children, sometimes we find our own healing in the process.
Dig into Jason Wilson’s practices. His website, books, X tweets, YouTube videos, and guest spots on podcasts are extremely helpful. He’s even been a guest on the Joe Rogan Experience where they talk together for 2 hours! Wilson’s own lack of good fathering has not stopped him from fathering and mentoring well. In fact, he was propelled into that better life because of his loss. He was not defeated by the lack of a good father. His faith in a good Heavenly Father has set a solid foundation for him, and now he comforts and empowers others.
Coming back around to the impetus for this post – the grieving granddaughter of a good grandfather – she will be comforted by the love she knew in their relationship. Her children will benefit from that as well. We take note of good fathers and have hope for ourselves to be that kind of parent.
