Happy Birthdays

Today marks 90 years since my mother was born. She didn’t live to see this birthday; she died back at the end of February. But birthdays were important to my mother– hugely important. She never forgot a birthday. Mom was pretty sharp into her later years. She might forget someone’s name–for awhile. She might forget a few details about what happened yesterday or last year, but she didn’t forget to take her medication. She would eventually remember that name she couldn’t come up with earlier in the day. And she had an elaborate system of calendars, date books, and directories to help her remember birthdays.

Mom had a large desk calendar. Each day’s “square” was covered in her handwriting– names, numbers, etc., reminding her of birthdays and anniversaries of her relatives, friends, neighbors, and church family. If she knew your name and birthday, it was on her calendar. If she knew your age, it was on there, as well. If she knew your anniversary, it was there, too. If she knew. your birthday and/or anniversary AND your address, you received a greeting card– and it generally arrived on the exact date! Mom did this for literally hundreds of people each year.

Today hits me hard. Not because Mom made a fuss about her own birthday–even special ones like a 90th. She enjoyed getting a card or gift, or having some cake or ice cream on her birthday, but that’s not what I miss. I miss the absolute joy she had in remembering others, and in being remembered. I can still see the look of childlike glee on her face when she and a friend were both surprised with a birthday party a few years ago. She was delighted for her friend as much as for herself. I can remember her insistence that certain cards be placed in the mailbox on certain days, so that they would not arrive too early or late, but just at the right time for someone’s special day. I remember shopping with her for box after box of greeting cards. Even though she bought “in bulk,” filling a basket or cart with multiple boxes of cards, she was very choosy about them– looking over the designs and the messages inside each box. Often, she had “buyer’s remorse” about a particular box of cards: she wasn’t satisfied with the tone or the greeting. In a box with four different designs, she might send out cards with two of the designs and just leave the others untouched.

Birthdays were important to Mom because individuals were important to her. She wanted every person she knew to feel loved, remembered, and special. Because they ARE! Not just by Mom, but by the God she loved and served.

Mom loved birthdays, including her own. But Mom had another birthday. Mom won’t celebrate another earthly birthday– she won’t get any cards or ice cream today– but she is celebrating her “other” birthday today. She did not knew the exact date, but she was born into eternal life when she accepted Jesus as her savior, and that birthday has no end. It is much more important than her earthly birthday, and fills her (and all who love her) with a greater joy. I can only imagine the gleeful expression on her face at this moment that “was” her birthday, and in every moment since she went “home.” And it’s in large part due to my Mother’s witness and influence that I also have a “second” birthday. I don’t knew its exact date, though I remember it was a beautiful summer day. Later this year, I will celebrate my earthly birthday–and it will be a bit sad without Mom’s card and her smile. But I know that we will someday share much more than a cake with candles, or a greeting card or a wrapped gift.

Mom taught me to appreciate birthdays– and to share the joy of wishing others a “Happy Birthday.” And to anyone celebrating an earthly birthday today, “Happy Birthday!” But I am looking forward to the day that I can share eternity with all those who have a “second birthday” in Christ! I’ll see Mom again, but even that will pale in comparison to experiencing God’s presence and the love He lavishes on His Children!

Just think– God loves you so much that He never forgets your earthly birthday. He not only knows your birthday, He remembers the exact moment of your conception, and every moment since! He knows you and loves you so much that He wants you to have another Birthday into eternal life with Him! And that is better than any earthly birthday card, cake, gift, or party you could ever celebrate! If you have a “second” birthday, even if you don’t know the exact date, I want to wish you a “Happy Birthday” as well– today and every day!

May 19, 2023 0

Souvenirs or Baggage?

My Mom died recently, and my brother and sister and I are cleaning out her estate. This is by no means a small task, as my Mother saved EVERYTHING! All of our elementary school report cards, 4-H Awards programs, class play programs, thousands of photos (mostly unidentified), post cards from all of our vacations (including places we re-visited!), ticket stubs from movies and football games and banquets, our old baby shoes, broken toys, recipes clipped from magazines and old boxes, letters we sent from college, and letters sent to her when she was in high school. She even saved such things that her own mother and grandmother had saved! Souvenirs and memories, all tucked away or piled up throughout her house.

My mom was what is known as a “hoarder.” She was pathological in her collecting bits and pieces of everything that went on all around her. She had clothing she had never worn. She had Christmas gifts she had opened and put back in their wrapping, but never enjoyed. She had books she had never read, DVDs she had never watched, and pots and pans she had never used. She had stacks and bags and boxes of memories she always meant to sort through– someday.

As she grew older, she sometimes would lament that we, as her children, would be burdened with the job of sorting through all her “stuff.” Even so, she wouldn’t let us touch any of it until the last months of her life, when it was obvious that she would never be able to do it herself. And we weren’t to throw anything out– only make an attempt to organize it all!

Of course, now we are throwing out the majority of what she kept. Much of it was damaged by being stacked and stored in the haphazard way it was. Some was damaged by a leaky roof, or mice. Many of the things that are damaged were once useful, and might have been useful yet if they had not been hoarded and held back. Blankets and towels that might have been passed on were left to be chewed up or rotted. Books and photos are warped or stained.

I loved Mom, and she was a great woman of God– a prayer warrior and evangelist. But she was human. In this part of her life, she missed some great opportunities to bless others with the resources she had. She even missed the opportunity to enjoy many of the things she obsessively stored for “someday.” Moreover, she saved many things that weren’t useful. Old boxes and jars of spoiled food, old bills and advertisements, expired credit cards and driver’s licenses.

I have been reminded of many things as I’ve helped go through Mom’s “things.” There are many wonderful memories that still can be found in all of her souvenirs. I found an old storybook– one of my favorites–about a Mama Bear and her naughty, curious little cub. “Why do you love me?,” the cub asks after getting into trouble yet again. “Because you’re my little bear,” she answers as she cleans the wounds and lovingly carries her cub home. Love transcends mischief. It transcends things like lost opportunities and hoarding tendencies, and the frustrations of life.

But sometimes we hang on to things, not out of love, but out of pain or desperation. Mom was a child of the Great Depression. Her family had to move a lot when she was younger. She was forced to give away toys and clothes she wanted to keep; forced to leave old friends and make new ones; forced to make things “last” when new things couldn’t be had. She spent many years having to be frugal and careful to make small memories last a lifetime. She became obsessed with collecting “souvenirs” of even the smallest events, even tragic ones, and holding on to what was “good enough,” even if something better was offered.

Photo by Carlo Ju00fcnemann on Pexels.com

Many of Mom’s “souvenirs” have become baggage for those of us who follow. And many of our “souvenirs” will be baggage for those who follow us. Some of our scars will be passed down to our children. Some of our hopes and dreams will be unrealized–unopened and unused gifts that “might have been.” Others objects and experiences will be pleasant reminders of the love that lasts beyond our own lives and limitations. But objects, in themselves, cannot take the place of the actual experiences of joy, love, and peace they are meant to represent.

God wants us to hold fast to certain things. Truth. Hope. Love. Faith. But He calls us to let go of other things. Bitterness, resentment, anger, self-pity. I know that in my final days, I will probably find that I am still carrying some baggage. But I hope that I will find more souvenirs– good memories of a life enjoyed, goals accomplished, and relationships that have stood the test of time. Mom had those in abundance. But some were hidden among the baggage–treasured memories of those who loved her, and those whom she loved, surrounded by the baggage of heartache and longing. I pray that those who follow me won’t have to search among the ruins to find my souvenirs, or hunt through piles of souvenirs to find my treasures.

May 3, 2023 0

Testimony

Yesterday at church we were challenged to share our testimony. I have shared my testimony several times, but I haven’t shared it in this space in a long while (if ever), so here goes:

When I was about 4 1/2 years old, I became a big sister. I was excited about this, but after my younger sister arrived, I had a terrible time with jealousy and resentment. She was tiny and adorable, and she had my Dad’s blue eyes (they later changed to a greenish/hazel color like mine, but everyone commented on her eyes, and never on mine). One day, filled with this resentment, I made a rather impulsive decision to poke my sister in the eye with a sharp stick. At that age, I wasn’t completely aware of the danger and damage I would have done, but I still knew it was wrong. I didn’t succeed– my mother caught me in time and got a stern talking-to about what had almost happened. Not wanting to face punishment and Mom’s anger, I burst into tears and said I was sorry. Surely a show of remorse would make everything all right. That’s how it worked on television, and it had worked for me that way in the past.

But this time was different. Mom was frightened by what might have happened, and unimpressed with my tears. She explained quite clearly that what I had attempted could have ended in disaster, and that no amount of “sorry” would have undone my action. I had to face punishment (probably less severe than I deserved, but it felt awful at the time). She also explained that she was both frightened of and disappointed in my action. She would tell my father, who would also be ashamed of my behavior. Now I was truly frightened. What if Mom and Dad never got over their disappointment? What if they stopped loving me? Not only that, but Jesus had seen everything: He knew what I had been about to do and WHY! I had learned about Jesus in Sunday School. He was kind and gentle and loved all the little children. What if He stopped loving me after He saw what I did? What if I had succeeded in hurting my sister and it could never be made right? What if I said I was sorry, and no one believed me? Even Jesus?

I can still remember the feelings of terror and shame– that kind and gentle and Holy Jesus might be disgusted with me; that my resentment and anger had separated me from Him, and that I could not “undo” it or “sorry” my way out of it. Certainly, I was coming to realize that He had (through my mom) stopped me from completing my evil plan –WHEW!– but He KNEW that I would have done it. And I wouldn’t have been sorry for my jealousy, or for my sister’s pain in that moment. Not really sorry. I recognized in that moment that I wasn’t a nice person or a good or righteous person. If Jesus loved me, I didn’t deserve it.

Mom must have seen the change in me, because she stopped and took the time to walk me through the lessons I was still learning in Sunday School. We are all sinners, and unworthy of the love and blessing of a Holy God. Yet Jesus came and offered to love us– to love us SO much that He was willing to die to remove the sting and shame of Sin and its consequences. And Jesus’ love is SO powerful that it can take a rotten, sinful heart and cleanse it completely. Mom and Dad could love and forgive me. But it would involve more than just saying, “I’m sorry.” I had to mean it. I had to choose to let Jesus take control of my resentment, and my wrong thinking, and ask Him for forgiveness. In fact, only Jesus can offer complete and everlasting forgiveness! I am not a righteous person; others can see that I am not a righteous person– yet Jesus can see me, not as I have been, but as I can be– perfected through Him! I asked Jesus to do just that– to come into my heart; to live in and through me; to renew me and change my mind and heart to be more like His.

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Jesus Loves ME– this I KNOW
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong.
They are weak, but He is strong!

I had sung this song many times, but now it made sense to me in an entirely new way. That was over 50 years ago, and I must admit that I have had moments of failure and embarrassment; times when I have chosen my own will and emotions over what I know to be right. I have had moments of doubting whether Jesus could still love me after things I’ve said and done. But time after time, I come back to that simple truth that Jesus, for reasons I cannot explain or fully understand, Loves Me– He Really Loves Me! His offer of forgiveness isn’t phony or conditional or limited. Not because I deserve unconditional love or a thousand “second chances.” Simply because HE LOVES ME!

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And He Loves You, too! Right now, right where you are, just as you are– He Loves You! Whether you’ve never known that, or been sure of that, or whether you’ve had moments of doubt because of something you’ve said or done (or left undone or said)–Jesus Loves You! And He wants to give you a New heart and a New Life– one that is free of lingering shame and fear; one that is eternal and filled with joy and peace!

That is my testimony. That is what I know from experience to be true of God– more true than anything else in the world.

April 25, 2022 0

Tag: mothers and daughters

Souvenirs or Baggage?

Testimony

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