No, it’s not Mother’s Day. Not for a few more months, anyway!
(For those of you whose hearts are racing thinking you
missed something.)
And, yes, I know Easter is coming soon. It’s that exact
reason I’m writing this.
My mother, Carolyn, has many stories to tell. In fact, it’s
her stories that she loves to remember and connect to us as our stories – our
history.
As a child, I loved to dust off her flowered orange, mustard
yellow and olive green photo albums. I’d creak them open and peer into her life
as a single woman – head thrown back, long hair blowing in the wind. She didn’t
get married until she was 30 so she had lots of time to rack up stories to tell
her daughters.
She grew up the oldest of 4 girls – one of whom is waiting
for her in Heaven. Her other sisters are fun-loving creative people whom I love
dearly! She was born and raised in Alberta, Canada. When
she got older, her family moved to Moline,
IL and it was there that she met
her lifelong friend Linda. It was through her that she began to grow strong in
Christ and what it means to stand strong in Him. She couldn’t possibly know it
then, but that relationship with her Father God would be the only thing that
could sustain her through years of hardship later.
Her single years saw her traveling and working. She worked
for several orphanages – one of them being in Whitehorse
in the Yukon Territory.
I saw pictures of a little shack she camped in one time with her friends and a close up
of bear scratches in the wood of their door as a bear was trying to get
friendly. She told me of dog sled races and ice fishing as well as wearing
Mukluks – tall rabbit fur lined moose skin moccasins. She still has a pair.
While in Whitehorse,
she was in charge of the little boys ward. She would take care of them, tell them
stories and tuck them in bed at night – essentially being Mommy to them. This
was the 70’s! She was single – many of her friends were either shacking up or
hitching up and here she was loving the orphan, more specifically, the unruly
boy orphan.
She later worked at another orphanage in Chicago caring for Junior High girls. How in
the world she stayed sane trying to teach and love some very difficult and
hormonal girls is more than I’ll ever know! I think maybe God was giving her
some heads-up experiences to draw from for her future daughters and building
relationships with them.
It was very important to her that my sister and I both learn
the mechanics of working a sewing machine. I’m certain it has nothing to do
with the “woman being domestic in her home” or some such thing, but rather a
skill that she herself found extremely handy numerous times.
She told me of the men and women in college that couldn’t
iron their collars properly or mend their clothes. She had an instant business.
They came to her for a job that was a necessity with those large 70’s collars
and they paid her well!
Then in 1975 she met her husband, my father. They have been
married almost 37 years and each one has been difficult. She has lived through
moving across country four times, homeschooling her four children while being a
pastor’s wife and leading Children’s Sunday School AND running a daycare during
the week, she has also dealt with her husband’s workaholicism, resigning from
two churches as pastor, massive heart attack, emotional abuse, and… AND
somehow, my mother can still look at me whispering through her tears that her
God, her relationship with her Father and Friend has been the only thing that
kept her going.
It is because of Easter that my Mother can celebrate
Mother’s Day.
Without her Savior, Father, and Friend, she would have
nothing worth celebrating. She is my encourager and friend. I know that there
is truly nothing… Not. One. Thing. that is too hard or too deep for Him to
bring you through.
I love you, Mom. I know you’ve had it hard, but thank you
for showing me how to cling to Christ and hold on for dear life. I will never
forget.
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