Happy Mother’s Day to the Sisterhood!

And that is YOU even if you’ve never borne down in the battle cry of birth or not! Of course, I honor my own precious mother today because if it weren’t for her – I wouldn’t be and neither would these children and grandchildren of mine. The best of me came from her. I thank God for that precious saint that I’ll throw my arms around one day and thank her again and again for giving me -- ME!

I believe that all of us are called to mother another – whether we call it mothering or not. We mother because we’re called to it. We are the ones who reach out to a struggling sister, child, college student, teenager, grandmother or couple. We mother the one who shows up at our doorstep to hear a positive word that she can make it one more day of home-schooling her children. We mother whether we’re married or not, and have a slew of kids or not.

We mother because we can’t not mother. We can't help ourselves, because there is a friend who has been hurt and needs a soft, safe place to land. We mother because we’ve watched our mothers make TLC soup for the sick. We mother because the older woman at the mall locked her keys in her car and we call for help for her and we wait and encourage her until help comes (true story). Because, we mother.

We love with genuine affection in our hearts. We delight in honoring each other. We give ourselves away — little bits and pieces of who we are, of our courage, of our deep faith, of our hope and peace. We bear down and we find ways to bring life to people desperate for air. Because it’s what we do – we mother.

Every single woman who loves, sacrifices, encourages, tends, cares, raises, praises, shapes, forms, nurtures, and cheers on others, no matter how you came to be connected with them, is doing an amazing, mothering work. And today -- as we celebrate our earthly (or heavenly) mothers, we celebrate you, too.

I honor you, believe in you and champion you! Happy Mother’s Day to my Sisterhood! Thank you for all you are and all you do!

“Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other.” (Romans 12:10)

He AND They Get Sweeter as the Days Go By

An old gospel song went like this: "He gets sweeter as the days go by; He gets sweeter as the moments fly; His love is richer, deeper, fuller, sweeter. Sweeter, sweeter, sweeter as the days go by." Seriously, the older I get and the closer I've become with my Lord, the sweeter and more peaceful is my journey. I'm consistently drawn to His Light. I'll be honest with you -- I'm so happy that the dark side of October 31st is over. Bring on the bright Light of Christ! Talking, walking and living in the Light is my number one priority. The more familiar I've become with THE LIGHT, the more I shun darkness of any kind!

Yesterday, November 1st (BTW – Happy November!!) was All Saints Day when we focused on saints. This tradition began in AD 609 and encourages us to remember and emulate our heroes of faith. So many devoted their lives to God and were Light-bearers of Christ. Many were martyred for their faith.

Today, November 2nd, is All Souls’ Day. Both of these days touch me so much -- two beautiful days of celebration. Those of us who have a relationship with Jesus Christ, look at death as leaving our “temporary” home on earth to go to our home sweet, eternal home in heaven. There are many who consider death an unpleasant topic and don’t even want to discuss the subject. But, my sweet mother-in-law gets it because she keeps saying "I want to go home!" She knows the joys that await her.

Here’s the positive way of looking at death. This earth has been our internship for heaven. It's the "holding room" for the ride of our life. You and I, and everyone we love will eventually die so then death had better be our friend and not our enemy. All Saints Day and All Souls Day offer us a wonderful, consoling and beautiful way of looking at death. On All Saints Day, we celebrate the glory of the saints in heaven. The Church teaches that everyone in heaven is a saint. There are many men and women, who are canonized (official) saints, and a special day is assigned to them. On All Saints Day, we celebrate everyone in heaven. Think of our loved ones who have died and gone to heaven. This is a chance for us to be happy for, and with them. They have no pain, no frustration, and all they know is absolute, complete peace and happiness because they are in the presence of God. We rejoice with them!

On All Souls Day, we acknowledge our loved ones who died and we embrace our memories with them and the great hope of meeting up with them in heaven. On this day, I purposely recall my precious grandmother who introduced me to my future husband, my firey-preacher grandfather, my angel mom, and wonderful dad, my beloved husband and so many others who influenced and impacted my life. On this day I get to admit that I miss them and I’m not even ashamed to shed a few tears for them. After all, Jesus wept over the death of His friend, Lazarus. I don’t shed tears because I lack faith or because my faith is weak. I shed tears because I miss them. It's okay. It's just temporary for me because I carry on with the joy of seeing them one day soon! I continue to let Jesus make sense of it all for me! How about you?

A Little Band of Women Who Are Still Here and Not Done

Up until this weekend, I was in the throes of ramrodding a retreat in Tulsa for my beloved Sister Marie Pierre – now age 90. In this case, “ramrodding” meant connecting with many women who had attended one of her 40 years of retreats. Obviously, while I was going through the list, I found many who had gone on to be with the Lord, others who are dealing with a debilitating illness or have had recent surgeries, and others who are caring for very ill loved ones. My, oh my, how time changes the complexion of “The Way We Were and The Way We Are” today!

For as long as I can remember, this group of women is likened to the Bible sisters, Martha and Mary. We have been “doers AND lovers”. We DO love Jesus and others with all our hearts (they sure loved me in some of my toughest times) and we are women who are relentless in our faith AND faithfulness (serving in word and deed). But, this retreat reunion weekend was about being “Marys at the feet of Jesus and Sister Pierre.” Unquestionably, the expectations for our hearts and souls to be touched went way beyond what we had expected.

Sister Pierre, a living saint in our eyes, is a mentor, a brilliant Bible scholar, a stand-up comedian (she won’t admit to that one, but those of us in her realm of influence would tell you most comedians couldn’t hold a candle to her wit) and held an annual retreat in an off-the-beaten-path location for 40 years. She retired in 2013 which meant the retirement of our annual retreats. Just a little chat about our retreats sparked her to say: “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a retreat reunion?” That was all we needed to say “GAME ON!” We needed this refreshing. We needed the rekindling of who we are and who God intended us to be. We needed a “refresher” of God’s goodness and mercy and to remember how much we are loved, and in Sister Pierre’s words – how “unique and irreplaceable” we are.

This sweet, precious woman is hunched over as she pushes her walker up and down the halls of St. Joseph’s Monastery. Though her precious body bears the marks of age and osteoporosis, her mind is so sharp. I am always taken back in her presence – back to what an ultimate sacrifice, devotion, and commitment to Christ look like. How can anyone give up family, marriage, having children, enjoying the excitement of the world and all it affords to be such a fully committed, devoted follower of Christ? She did just that – as a young girl to this day. She incredibly models what sitting at the feet of Jesus looks like, but then getting up and going about telling others about Jesus as Mary Magdalene did.

We had the opportunity to share “retreat” memories. We remembered her “talks” that always encouraged and challenged us and then she’d send us outdoors by the lake and God’s creation to reflect on what she had spoken to us about. Of course, God met us in his creation and we’d come back in and share what we heard Him say to us. Being away from the hustle and bustle at home – to BEING present with God and each other. We felt loved and secure in our Father’s love.

I'm sure the women who followed Jesus felt the same way. If only our world used the example of Jesus and how He loved and respected women. In Luke 8 we see there was a band of women followers who traveled with Him and His disciples. Those women came from all walks of life and some had questionable backgrounds, but here’s the common thread – each of them experienced healing through their encounter with Christ.

The women that Jesus touched and loved is a mighty indicator of His love for us. The women at the foot of the cross and at the tomb held a tiny flame of faith. That flame of faith may have burned high, and it may have burned low, but the flame never went out, and their faith was rewarded. Our little band of retreat women celebrated that love He has for us. Our flame of faith, too, may burn high and it may burn low, but our flame never goes out because we have faith in His Word that “nothing is impossible with Him".

What BAND do you belong to? If you don’t have a group that lifts you higher, that is willing to run to the finish line with you, that encourages you to go the distance, that makes you better and gives you a good kick-in-the-place-you-sit-on every now and again, I urge you to find a BAND too. Being a little band of women or men….can certainly keep you going….especially when the going gets tough.

Valentine's Day -- February 14, 2004

Day 14 in this Month of Love -- Valentine's Day -- February 14, 2004
As usual on Valentine’s, my husband, Ron, took my Mom the single rose in a vase and her favorite box of chocolates. Mom had been living at the Grace Living Center in Jenks, OK for four and a half months because of a severe fall, which the doctor said was reason enough for her to not live alone anymore. “With her heart condition, this could happen again,” he told us.

It was a daily routine for the Nurse’s Aides to get Mom up each morning, help dress her in one of her coordinated outfits, and take her in her wheelchair to the dining hall for her breakfast, and other meals. But, when we arrived at her room (as was my daily routine anyway, but Ron went with me this morning), Mom was still in bed. Patsy, the South Wing Nurse, was leaning over Mom checking her heart with her stethoscope. Patsy looked up at us and said, “Edna’s not feeling so good today. She threw up quite hard last night. Her false teeth fell out of her mouth and the bottom ones broke!” I immediately replied to Mom, “That’s okay -- I’ll take them on Monday and get them fixed”. Mom didn't want anyone to see her without her dentures, so I knew I would have to make that a “priority” errand on Monday (this was Saturday). I could tell she wasn’t feeling good. She didn’t respond heartily to our greetings, and only gave a “little” smile to Ron as he reached down and kissed her, held out the rose in the vase and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom! Here’s my flower and chocolates for my Sweetheart!”

And, as I leaned in close to her, I assured her that she looked beautiful without those dentures, caressing her face and soothing her with words to comfort the fact that she wasn’t feeling good. I hadn’t seen “my smile” from her yet, so I did my usual coaxing, "Where’s 'my smile'?" To which, she gave a half-hearted little smile and mouthed the words, “I’m okay!” I noticed she had on her red plaid pajamas. “I see you’ve got on your Valentine’s PJs!” Ron then said, kiddingly, “Hey, Mom! Come on. Get up. Let’s go shopping at the Mall. I’ll push you in your silver Cadillac (her wheel-chair)” She always knew when Ron was jesting with her and today was no exception. She responded back to him by her typical sticking-out-her-tongue at him.

Everyone who knew her, knew how she loved to “kid” and “be kidded” by Ron. She and Ron had an unusually close relationship for the 40 years we had been married and five years before that. For many years Mom lived with us when our children were young. Ron would tell everyone, “Mom and I have never had a cross word with one another – well, except for the one time I had to scold her for allowing our 10-year old daughter to coax her into doing her chores (i.e., making her bed, emptying the dishwasher, etc.). Our daughter, Staci, would pay her fifty cents from her allowance.”

Ron’s Mom, Lydia, always came by to see my Mom every Saturday after her weekly hair appointment, which was just a couple of blocks away. This morning was no exception. She came in and greeted her dearest friend of over 45 years. It was these two women who diligently “arranged, prayed, and continued to bless” the relationship of Ron and I since I was twelve, and he was thirteen years old. How appropriate for all of us being together on this Valentine’s Day. It was “Mom” Lydia, and her husband, that drove Ron and I to our first date, which was a church Valentine’s Banquet, 45 years ago. While all of us were together this morning, Mom kept trying to tell me something. I just couldn’t make out the words.

Since I had been through many physical “ups and downs” with Mom over the last few years, I assumed that this morning would be like those from before where I had seen her feeling very low, but would bounce right back in just a matter of time. We all were convinced that Mom had nine lives -- she’d been so close to death several times in the last few years, but would recover and be her full-of-life self, spreading her love and joy to everyone around her once again.

Before leaving her this morning, Ron reached out to Mom in his customary way, joined my hand and his Mother’s hand, and said, “Let’s pray.” He prayed his usual prayer of faith and trusting in God for Mom’s healing, rest and peace. We all took turns reaching down and kissing her and telling her "good-bye". I told her I’d be back after a short while to see her. I guess I had a premonition that Mom needed extra TLC today, so I went to the Nurse’s Station and said to Patsy and the Nurses Aides, “I know you check on Mom regularly, but would you keep an even closer eye on her today, and call me if her condition changes?” They assured me that they would.

We had just gone for a Valentine's breakfast with Ron's Mom, when I got a call from Patsy saying, “Donna, I’m sorry to tell you; your Mother passed away.” Oh, the painful emotion I felt and the questioning ensued -- “Why wasn’t I there? Why did we leave her?” When we got back to the Nursing Home, the Nurses Aides were with her. She was still in the same position as when we left. Nadia, one of the dear Nurses Aides from Russia, immediately told us that she had come in to see if Mother wanted lunch. Being Russian Orthodox in her religious beliefs, Nadia asked Mom if she could pray with her. Mother would always accept an offer for prayer. Nadia recounted her last moments with Mom. She said that she had prayed a simple prayer and said that Mother’s eyes followed her gesture of signing her with the cross. Nadia left her room and after just a few minutes, Nadia came back to check on Mom, and she was gone.

After pondering the events of Mom's final moments of life. I came to believe that with Nadia's gesture of signing Mom with the cross, that Mom, like Jesus Christ said in His final moments, said, “It is finished”, and chose to "go home". Her assignment on this earth was finished.

After someone so close leaves us, we let our imaginations and deepest desires come to mind, hoping to relieve the pain of parting. Ron said, “Papa got his Valentine Sweetheart back today!” (Papa, my Dad and Mother’s husband of 34 years, had preceded Mother in death forty years ago.) My dear Mother-in-Law, Lydia, said, “Donna, remember when Edna was trying to tell you something before we left? I know she was saying, 'He’s coming for me.'" For me, having been a part of this beautiful, precious saint’s life for 56 years, (I deemed her Saint Edna Pearl long ago), who, because of her prayers, steadfastness, strength, true unconditional love for me in all of my growing-up years, caused me to be a the woman I am today. Though I miss her so much, just knowing her daily prayers of going home to be with Jesus and my Dad, were answered, causes me great comfort and joy. I think that my Dad and God had a mutual agreement on this Valentine’s Day, “Let’s bring our “Best Girl and Sweetheart” home!” And, they did.

Happy Valentine’s Day in Heaven, Mom, AND to my Sweetheart! I'm quite sure that you two are having a hay day running around heaven. What a sweet picture that is to me. You're healed, whole and celebrating God's overwhelming love! What a day of rejoicing it is for you there, AND me here!

FB Friends, please indulge me as I share these photo memories with my family and you!