Last month I joined that horrible, beautiful, painful, holy club – the one with membership not decided by the members themselves. The one spoken of in hushed tones and with downward glances. The one filled with women who never wanted “in” to begin with.

I joined the mothers-who’ve-lost-babies club just days after Easter when we lost our little girl to miscarriage.

I’m still navigating the waves of grief, and to be honest, most days I don’t find a huge amount of comfort that my baby is safe in heaven… without me. That knowledge gives me hope—absolutely—but doesn’t always make me feel better. In the words of my husband, “I don’t want her there. I want her here with us.”

My feet are firmly planted here on earth… and most of the time heaven feels so, so far away. (Obviously we’re still grappling with this stuff.)

About two weeks ago at the end of an “easy” day (i.e. no huge meltdowns or massive mood swings) I was thinking about how my life had felt normal for most of the day. I was still missing her, but I felt good, even a tiny bit strong. I climbed into bed happy and settled and reflective in a sweet, sentimental way. (I continue to think of her constantly.)

But as soon as the lights went out I grew restless and fidgety.

I wanted to cry, and grieve, and connect with the sadness that lingered in the most tender part of my heart. (I struggle to describe this, because often the urge to connect with the sadness also comes with a simultaneous urge to run away and hide from all of it, as if it might disappear if ignored long enough.)

After tossing and turning for a while I got back out of bed and took a long, hot shower while I poured my heart out to God and let the water wash over and sooth my weary soul. I want to share part of what I wrote in my journal later that night:

I think of Moses’ mother – carrying her baby boy and fearing for his life when it was threatened. Because of her love she handed him over to be cared for by another.

She handed him over.

And once she did so he had the world at his fingertips. Her little babe had the highest education, the best of the best for everything he ate, wore, and came into contact with. He was protected and safe – every tangible need being met. He was in a place where he would never know lack. (A place that sounds a bit like heaven, perhaps?)

And yet how must she have felt? Knowing he had all the riches of the world surely didn’t make it easier to know that he was being raised by another.

She was his mother.

Did her arms feel empty? Did she grieve the future they would never have together? Did she feel like her life was turned up side down as she was forced to let go and move on?

Surely she did. Surely.

Maybe she began to long for a place where she’d see him once more. Maybe heaven became more real in those hours and days and months as she grieved her loss and grappled to find her new normal.

I can only imagine that her longing for heaven was at least as intense as what I feel in this moment.

I’m not sure if I’ve really known longing for heaven before my darkest day.

But the truth that we’re aliens in this land has never been more real to me. All of a sudden it feels like the fact that my home is not here has been written in neon lights above my doorstep.

Never before have I longed to be there more than I do now.

And I don’t know about you, friends – if you’ve lost babies or sisters or fathers or aunties. But nothing brings heaven into sharper focus than being faced with death on earth.

Nothing makes the longing for heaven more real than heartache and loss and grief.

Whether you’re a believer or not, grieving is hard. But I’ll tell you one thing I know for certain — grieving with hope is far better than grieving with hopelessness.

And so in my grief and my healing and my longing for heaven, I pray that God would show me what it means to keep pulling heaven down so that we all can be a little more surrounded by what should be and what will be as we wait for that place where everything is made new.

Just as we are a community of mothers seeking Grace, may we also be mothers marked with a longing for heaven and an ability to see it and respond to it and birth it into being right around us in our homes and communities and to the ends of the earth, even when things around us seem to be crumbling.

And in the midst of our longing may we receive comfort from the hope that heaven holds.

“We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope for it. But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.)” –Romans 8:24-25

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” -2 Corinthians 4:18

This ground we stand on in the midst of our pain is holy, because there’s more to The Story than we can yet see.

Friends, do you think about heaven much? What is one way you can “bring heaven” into your home this week? How do you cope with the tension between the current reality of our world and the hope of what’s to come?

The Mommyhood Memos, where she's passionate about encouraging and empowering women.

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]]> http://www.graceformoms.com/longing-for-heaven-after-loss/feed/ 7 http://www.graceformoms.com/longing-for-heaven-after-loss/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/graceformoms/AVeN/~3/dnvy-2m8ZB8/ http://www.graceformoms.com/everybody-needs-their-mom/#comments Mon, 13 May 2013 13:52:11 +0000 Jess Chambers http://www.graceformoms.com/?p=2767

Mary Margaret Alley Thomas
1930-1982

My momma was only 21 when she lost her mom. That was 31 years ago today. Even as a little girl, I had some sense that being a Mom without a Mom must be hard. My Momma never said much about it, but every now and then she’d simply say, “wish my Mom could have seen this …”

Everybody needs their Mom.

My grandmother birthed 10 children and ironed clothes for a living. She was country when country was all there was. She knew about the hardest things in life – not just hard work and raising babies, but burying babies far too soon, loving a man when he was acting like a boy, and stretching every last dollar from week to week just to put food on the table. Her life was the kind of stuff Loretta sang about. I have a picture of her on a bookshelf in my house that my Momma gave me. There is something about this picture of a young woman all dressed up and standing on a dirt road that fills my heart up. It gives me strength in moments of weakness, makes me want to stand taller and feel proud that her blood runs through mine.

The strength my grandmother carried is like a gift she continually gives me – just looking at her picture reminds me that there’s just nothing like a mother. Mom’s have a fierce ability to love, nurture, and protect their children. We just do what we gotta do, whatever that looks like.

Our youngest son, Kellen, was six weeks old when I knew that his colic wasn’t just colic. When our pediatrician confirmed that he had an allergy to dairy and soy, we knew life was about to get interesting. I had been able to nurse our oldest son, Brody, for a solid year even after going back to work full time. I wanted desperately to do the same for Kellen. It meant a huge change in my diet – especially for this carb lover : ). Somehow, the desire and will came to me and I was able to eat just the right foods and Kellen managed to have the same benefit as Brody in nursing for his first year. Let me say that I know breastfeeding is not everyone’s choice, and there is no judgement from me as a mother for my friends and family (or you, my reader friend). That was just a conviction of mine and although I struggled to change my daily diet for my own self, doing it for my baby was easy and I would do it again in a heartbeat. It’s that mothering instinct. The kind that will keep you up on the couch until your babies are home even when they’re nearing 18 or 20. It’s the kind of strength that pulls you out of bed in the middle of the night tending to a sick little person who needs no other soul in that moment but you, Momma.

There’s something we all need to know and believe – God has equipped us to be everything they’re gonna need. Our kids will grow up remembering the sound of our laugh, the softness in our hands, the sound of our voice – because we are theirs and they don’t want anyone but us. They are aware that only their mom can love them and care for them with a mighty strength. So just love. Be who you are. Laugh on the tough days. Cry in the sad moments and even some of the happy ones.

And when you feel like you just can’t make it, or your weariness turns to doubt, call your Momma.  She will remind you of who you are, where you came from, and what you’re capable of; she’ll be your strength.

I am not sure who my sweet Momma called in those moments since her Mom was gone, but something tells me a picture, or a memory was enough to keep her going. Whatever it was, I am grateful that she is here to get me through when I feel like I just can’t. And I pray I can do the same someday for these little men I am raising. I’ll just teach them to call home whenever they need something.

Everybody needs their Mom.

Do you call on your Mom when you need extra strength to make it through the day? How does she make you feel stronger?

Being a mother actually has very little to do with birthing a child from your body. That might be the most obvious scenario, but motherhood is so much more than a physical happening. I have known some expert “mothers” who never birthed or raised any children of their own, and I have known some mothers with a brood of children who shouldn’t be allowed to come anywhere near them. I don’t think motherhood can be simply defined by having or not having little people under your care.

A mother is someone who nurtures – someone who cares for the deepest places of your heart. Anyone can throw a meal at you or give you a bed to sleep on, but a mother makes a place for you. A mother sees the deepest, truest you and treats you like you already are that person. A mother cares about your hurts and fears, but also your dreams and successes. She is a cheerleader, a coach, a trainer and a fan all at the same time.

Some of you reading this are feeling ripped off because your biological mother didn’t do any of those things for you. You’re not alone. Our moms could never be all that they should be…and neither can you or I.  It’s too big, this job of being MOM. I mean, we’re still working out our own issues, never mind tackling all the issues our children are dealing with, right?!

Do you know which Person of the Trinity is most like a mother? Take a guess. Probably not the Father. Jesus? Nope. It’s the Holy Spirit. The Bible tells us that the Holy Spirit is the Comforter. He nurtures us and leads us into truth. He tells us who we are in Christ. He speaks destiny and purpose into the core of our beings. He mothers us, for lack of a better term. When God crafted Eve out of the tissues of Adam’s body, He separated other aspects of Himself into her – the things we associate with the female gender, but that actually came from the Personhood of God. Some of those Godly characteristics are nurture and comfort. When we use those attributes, we look like God. People can see we are His.

But back to my issues… How can I ever be a good enough mother for my children when I know I have things that need to be fixed in my own soul?  The only way to do right by your children is to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  On your best day, you don’t have enough wisdom, strength, love, patience, fill-in-the-blank ____________ on your own to adequately nurture your child, but God does. The Holy Spirit in you can meet every need those little munchkins have!

As I write this, my grandmother is dying. I have been thinking a lot about her life and the legacy she is leaving. She has lived through some difficult things in her lifetime – raising four children, a broken marriage, church messes, friend messes, heartaches. But she has carried a mantle of motherhood about her for as long as I have known her. Whether or not she knew how to wear that mantle in her earlier days, I can’t say. But she certainly has learned how to wear it now. She makes each of us feel so special and she cheers us on in anything we are trying to do. She sees the treasure that lies within each person in our family and she helps us to see it, too. She is such a gift to us, and I’m going to miss her terribly.  Terribly.  I want to inherit the mantle from her.

Some of you might not have your own children. But you are still a mother. You have a God-given ability to comfort, nurture and see. You have permission to use those abilities! Some of you have children and you feel completely inadequate, and maybe at the end of your rope. Be filled with the Spirit and let Him lead you in mothering your little ones. Some of you have lost a mother or mother-figure recently and you’re hurting this weekend. God sees you. The Holy Spirit can wrap you up in a blanket of comfort when you cry out for Him. Let Him mother you now.

Motherhood is a sacred mystery. It transcends biological limitations. It is a gift, a calling, an honor.

Happy Mother’s Day to YOU.

What is your definition of “mother”? 

{Photo Credit}

Destiny in Bloom online magazine and on her personal blog Dishes and Diapers.

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]]> http://www.graceformoms.com/the-meaning-of-motherhood/feed/ 4 http://www.graceformoms.com/the-meaning-of-motherhood/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/graceformoms/AVeN/~3/30pjOWny7P4/ http://www.graceformoms.com/in-the-shadows-of-overwhelmed/#comments Wed, 08 May 2013 13:28:20 +0000 Jessica Wolstenholm http://www.graceformoms.com/?p=2706

I get to the end of most days knowing I missed out on so much. Overwhelmed by the details of everyday life, it’s so easy to miss the beauty that surrounds. Motherhood is basically a constant state of movement and chaos. We go from meal to meal; from the first little person who wakes our sleepy head to the last one we kiss goodnight.

The other day my babies {age 5 and almost 2} were holding hands in the backseat as we drove to dance class. For a while they simply sat there, quietly grasping their hands together. Then came the giggling. I’m not sure what my daughter was saying to her little brother but he thought it was hilarious. As they laughed together {still holding hands} a song played in the background,

“so picture all the best things in life, that’s what love looks like.” {Dara MacLean}

And time stood still. It truly felt like it stopped. My heart begged to have the moment linger forever but my head knew it wouldn’t be long before someone needed a drink or dropped their lovie.

It got me thinking. I’m tired of missing out. I’m tired of being so shadowed by my overwhelmed state that I race through the day to bedtime. I’m done with failing to savor the moment because I’m looking toward the next one. I am so over the attitude that rises in my spirit when I’m stressed and unsure of where the strength will come to deliver one.more.meal to their hungry bellies. . .to change yet another diaper. . .to wash one more load of laundry.

So how do we come out of the shadows? It’s a daily minute by minute decision to choose love and life over the thanklessness of stress and busyness. We must choose to live in the moment. We must choose to savor life. And we must be committed to doing whatever it takes to pull ourselves out of the dark and into the light of everyday blessings.

Devote yourselves to prayer with an alert mind and a thankful heart. Colossians 4:2

The apostle Paul knew how to encourage the church to rise above their current state to a place of holiness. This verse comes at the end of a letter filled with instructions on how to live a holy life. His admonition is a beautiful summation that compels us to pray, be mindful and full of gratitude.

This, I believe, is the formula for a life lived in the light.

 Have you been living in the shadows? What are some ways you have found to step into the light?

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The Pregnancy Companion book, she also blogs about TTC, infertility & pregnancy at ThePregnancyCompanion.com

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]]> http://www.graceformoms.com/in-the-shadows-of-overwhelmed/feed/ 0 http://www.graceformoms.com/in-the-shadows-of-overwhelmed/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/graceformoms/AVeN/~3/Qkg56i87kNk/ http://www.graceformoms.com/because-we-know-a-mothers-day-reflection/#comments Mon, 06 May 2013 12:20:21 +0000 Laura Oyer http://www.graceformoms.com/?p=2744

Kids from our homeschool group making a cake.

In May, a lovely celebration of motherhood is everywhere.  I saw a sign the other day encouraging me to “think about all of the things that make mothers special”, and at first I decided to modestly decline.  As a mother myself, I thought it might be a little odd to mentally list my special qualities. 

As my mind scanned through the previous week of my life, however, I remembered just a few examples of one thing that consistently amazes me about mothers.

My friend – a mom of five – was planning to watch my daughter while I went to a long-scheduled appointment. A sudden tummy ache meant that my son was in the van with me rather than at preschool when I pulled in to drop Maya off.  I had no intention of leaving a sick kid to potentially lose his breakfast all over someone else’s home, but my friend threw a sheet over the couch, set a trash can nearby, and told me to bring him on in. My gratitude overflowed, because raise your hand if you’d want to take a five-year-old boy to your yearly physical.

Mothers know. 

Another friend has walked a long road of medical issues with her sweet boy, and faced it all with such grace. She posted a prayer request on a private Facebook group, because her gut told her that something just wasn’t right after a recent procedure.  With the possibility of a rough night ahead for them, someone felt led to suggest that a few of us take on some time slots and pray the family through the night. It was pulled together quickly, the night covered by a group of moms with a mission.

Mothers know. 

At homeschool group, we pass around babies when hands are full and tissues when someone is overwhelmed with life stuff.  We pull each others’ toddlers out of precarious adventures, and let the most patient of us teach the cake-baking lesson. We descend upon our unsuspecting local Chik-fil-A, and between the four of us moms, manage to get everyone through parking lots, ordering lines, a boisterous meal, and multiple bathroom visits.

Mothers know.

This week, the advertising flyer for nearly every store is pink with tulips and headlines that warn, “Don’t Forget Mom!” It makes me smile to myself, because this is a role that just can’t be adequately summed up with a new set of mixing bowls. As much as I’ll appreciate the store-bought and handmade gifts given to me each May, I am far more grateful for that moment each morning when two bleary-eyed kids wander out to the living room and curl up in the crook of my arm. For the gift of belonging to this worldwide club of women who understand the joys and fears and ferocious love that I’ve known now for eight years.

Our true Mother’s Day gift has been given to us, out of God’s lavish grace. We feed, clothe, and comfort. We sleep far less, and wonder if we’ll ever really have free time again. Our hearts feel levels of joy and pain that we didn’t previously understand. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mothers know.

For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.  John 1:16  (ESV)

InTheBackyard.net, and is the co-author of Spirit-Led Parenting:From Fear to Freedom in Baby’s First Year.

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]]> http://www.graceformoms.com/because-we-know-a-mothers-day-reflection/feed/ 1 http://www.graceformoms.com/because-we-know-a-mothers-day-reflection/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/graceformoms/AVeN/~3/XZL-VTB-TD4/ http://www.graceformoms.com/a-simple-teacher-gift-thats-sure-to-be-a-hit/#comments Sat, 04 May 2013 12:34:35 +0000 Jessica Wolstenholm http://www.graceformoms.com/?p=2726 This afternoon, after discussing with my girlfriends what we should get for teachers this year, I kept going back and forth between something simple {like a gift card} and something that requires more time {like the countless, adorable, crafty, teachery-type items on Pinterest}. Then I came across a status update on Facebook that read something like this:

“Friends, if you are thinking about what to get your child’s teachers this year I just want to say, as a former teacher – while every gift is appreciated – try to give them something that is about them. Teachers don’t think about apples and school supplies every minute of every day. If you want to say thank you, say it with something that they can use for themselves.”

And there you have it. Problem solved. While I have dreams of creating the most beautiful, teacher/school supply thank you gift, they will probably appreciate something simple that they can use for themselves. Like a gift card. For that item they’ve had their eye on for months but can’t justify buying for themselves.

If you prefer to go the crafty route, by all means, do it. I will be one of those moms salivating over the beauty you’ve made of a clipboard, a little chalkboard paint and ribbon. But if you are like me – a little creatively challenged – then be at peace with a gift card that your child’s teacher will love!

Here are a few creative and thoughtful ways to present your teachers with a gift card from their favorite destination:

 

 

 

{Note: These are NOT printables. They are simply ideas that you can recreate. I used picmonkey.com to lay out these cards. It’s super simple. Give it a try!}

What are some simple and teacher-friendly gifts you have given?

The Pregnancy Companion book, she also blogs about TTC, infertility & pregnancy at ThePregnancyCompanion.com

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