I haven't written about my mother in quite a while. However, when I saw this picture, my mind was flooded with memories of when she would say these words to me: "I'm sorry but..." No comma after the "sorry" part to indicate that there was truth to the statement of being apologetic. No, rather it was all one, long, convoluted sentence that pointed blame back at me instead of offering an apology for the things she did that offended me. There was no real truth in the two words that began the conversation. Sigh. It's been about 18 months now since Momma passed. I've made my peace--finally--with the things that were done to me that hindered me for so long. It was a long, slow, painful, soul-searching event. But through the grace of God, through the prayers of friends and family, and through many long, sleepless nights and/or dreams filled with fantasies of how growing up with a loving mother should have been, I made it through the rain. Barry Manilow would be so proud! I miss my mom. I miss the times when we did have a good relationship. I miss the times when I felt she was the greatest woman in the world. I regret that she wasn't the woman she should have been and that she had gotten to meet my grandsons. How sad it is, I've commiserated many times, that her house wasn't the one we all ran to as my siblings and our children, our grandkids, and our spouses celebrated life together. Nieces, nephews, and cousins should have been playing and laughing and rolling on her front yard, climbing in the barns, sharing secrets down by the creek. Such a wasted life, hers was. And mine too. My grandson shouldn't sporadically ask me, "Why didn't your mother love you, Granny?" But, the story doesn't have to have an unhappy ending. Many lessons come from bad experiences and I must say, I have been the student of those teachings. Time takes its own sweet time and my hope is that, since I am in a much better place than I was for too long, one day, one day I will see my grandchildren meeting their cousins and aunts and uncles. They may just roam those former tobacco fields, maybe even sled down the hills that I grew up on, and forge new and wonderful relationships that generated from this one woman who birthed four children, three of whom are still alive, and forever bonded by blood. I'd rather write "bonded by love" but... we're not there yet. So, in conclusion, there was a lot to be sorry for in the time that we were allowed together, my mother and I. Too much of it was carelessly tossed away and cannot ever be regained. Am I sorry? Oh yeah! My regrets are many and some hurts are still healing, yet my hope remains that all was not lost, that the good times can be reminisced over while new memories will be made with the ones she left behind, memories that are helpful and not hurtful. Memories that only make me cry happy tears rather than bitter ones. Memories that, in spite of the past, the future can be one of love with no excuses, no buts, and far fewer regrets unless they are that we all couldn't get together more often. It can happen! Will it? Tune in and see! Dear Lord, as my eyes are still leaking, I reach out to You for comfort. How my mother hurt me, Lord! How I hurt her! We shamed You so with our inability to forgive and to let love conquer all. I don't want my legacy to be one of shame nor one that tears apart my family, God. Please help me each minute of my life to be mindful of the words I say, the actions I display, and the favoritism shown that makes one feel more highly while the other feels forlorn. May I not be that way! May I not love one more than the other! May I not confuse, confound, or discredit any of my family and make them feel unloved or not good enough. May I reflect You, Lord, in all of the people I love--in truth. Oh God! My soul is so sad for the loss of what should have been. I know the past cannot be changed so my hope is that the future, the present, the now will be better for these hard and painful lessons learned. If it be Your will, reunite my siblings and me. Give our kids the opportunity to be better than the sorry examples we have been. I have great-nieces and great-nephews that I have never seen, never held, never smooched on. I want them to know me, to know that Granny Stef or Great-Aunt Stef or whatever it is that want to call me will be a welcomed presence in their lives, one who loves without holding back, and a woman that they can always count on showing them unconditional love. I ask this with my whole heart, in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Friday, March 7, 2014
I'm sorry but...
Wandering Through the Bible 
I haven't written about my mother in quite a while. However, when I saw this picture, my mind was flooded with memories of when she would say these words to me: "I'm sorry but..." No comma after the "sorry" part to indicate that there was truth to the statement of being apologetic. No, rather it was all one, long, convoluted sentence that pointed blame back at me instead of offering an apology for the things she did that offended me. There was no real truth in the two words that began the conversation. Sigh. It's been about 18 months now since Momma passed. I've made my peace--finally--with the things that were done to me that hindered me for so long. It was a long, slow, painful, soul-searching event. But through the grace of God, through the prayers of friends and family, and through many long, sleepless nights and/or dreams filled with fantasies of how growing up with a loving mother should have been, I made it through the rain. Barry Manilow would be so proud! I miss my mom. I miss the times when we did have a good relationship. I miss the times when I felt she was the greatest woman in the world. I regret that she wasn't the woman she should have been and that she had gotten to meet my grandsons. How sad it is, I've commiserated many times, that her house wasn't the one we all ran to as my siblings and our children, our grandkids, and our spouses celebrated life together. Nieces, nephews, and cousins should have been playing and laughing and rolling on her front yard, climbing in the barns, sharing secrets down by the creek. Such a wasted life, hers was. And mine too. My grandson shouldn't sporadically ask me, "Why didn't your mother love you, Granny?" But, the story doesn't have to have an unhappy ending. Many lessons come from bad experiences and I must say, I have been the student of those teachings. Time takes its own sweet time and my hope is that, since I am in a much better place than I was for too long, one day, one day I will see my grandchildren meeting their cousins and aunts and uncles. They may just roam those former tobacco fields, maybe even sled down the hills that I grew up on, and forge new and wonderful relationships that generated from this one woman who birthed four children, three of whom are still alive, and forever bonded by blood. I'd rather write "bonded by love" but... we're not there yet. So, in conclusion, there was a lot to be sorry for in the time that we were allowed together, my mother and I. Too much of it was carelessly tossed away and cannot ever be regained. Am I sorry? Oh yeah! My regrets are many and some hurts are still healing, yet my hope remains that all was not lost, that the good times can be reminisced over while new memories will be made with the ones she left behind, memories that are helpful and not hurtful. Memories that only make me cry happy tears rather than bitter ones. Memories that, in spite of the past, the future can be one of love with no excuses, no buts, and far fewer regrets unless they are that we all couldn't get together more often. It can happen! Will it? Tune in and see! Dear Lord, as my eyes are still leaking, I reach out to You for comfort. How my mother hurt me, Lord! How I hurt her! We shamed You so with our inability to forgive and to let love conquer all. I don't want my legacy to be one of shame nor one that tears apart my family, God. Please help me each minute of my life to be mindful of the words I say, the actions I display, and the favoritism shown that makes one feel more highly while the other feels forlorn. May I not be that way! May I not love one more than the other! May I not confuse, confound, or discredit any of my family and make them feel unloved or not good enough. May I reflect You, Lord, in all of the people I love--in truth. Oh God! My soul is so sad for the loss of what should have been. I know the past cannot be changed so my hope is that the future, the present, the now will be better for these hard and painful lessons learned. If it be Your will, reunite my siblings and me. Give our kids the opportunity to be better than the sorry examples we have been. I have great-nieces and great-nephews that I have never seen, never held, never smooched on. I want them to know me, to know that Granny Stef or Great-Aunt Stef or whatever it is that want to call me will be a welcomed presence in their lives, one who loves without holding back, and a woman that they can always count on showing them unconditional love. I ask this with my whole heart, in the name of Jesus. Amen.
I haven't written about my mother in quite a while. However, when I saw this picture, my mind was flooded with memories of when she would say these words to me: "I'm sorry but..." No comma after the "sorry" part to indicate that there was truth to the statement of being apologetic. No, rather it was all one, long, convoluted sentence that pointed blame back at me instead of offering an apology for the things she did that offended me. There was no real truth in the two words that began the conversation. Sigh. It's been about 18 months now since Momma passed. I've made my peace--finally--with the things that were done to me that hindered me for so long. It was a long, slow, painful, soul-searching event. But through the grace of God, through the prayers of friends and family, and through many long, sleepless nights and/or dreams filled with fantasies of how growing up with a loving mother should have been, I made it through the rain. Barry Manilow would be so proud! I miss my mom. I miss the times when we did have a good relationship. I miss the times when I felt she was the greatest woman in the world. I regret that she wasn't the woman she should have been and that she had gotten to meet my grandsons. How sad it is, I've commiserated many times, that her house wasn't the one we all ran to as my siblings and our children, our grandkids, and our spouses celebrated life together. Nieces, nephews, and cousins should have been playing and laughing and rolling on her front yard, climbing in the barns, sharing secrets down by the creek. Such a wasted life, hers was. And mine too. My grandson shouldn't sporadically ask me, "Why didn't your mother love you, Granny?" But, the story doesn't have to have an unhappy ending. Many lessons come from bad experiences and I must say, I have been the student of those teachings. Time takes its own sweet time and my hope is that, since I am in a much better place than I was for too long, one day, one day I will see my grandchildren meeting their cousins and aunts and uncles. They may just roam those former tobacco fields, maybe even sled down the hills that I grew up on, and forge new and wonderful relationships that generated from this one woman who birthed four children, three of whom are still alive, and forever bonded by blood. I'd rather write "bonded by love" but... we're not there yet. So, in conclusion, there was a lot to be sorry for in the time that we were allowed together, my mother and I. Too much of it was carelessly tossed away and cannot ever be regained. Am I sorry? Oh yeah! My regrets are many and some hurts are still healing, yet my hope remains that all was not lost, that the good times can be reminisced over while new memories will be made with the ones she left behind, memories that are helpful and not hurtful. Memories that only make me cry happy tears rather than bitter ones. Memories that, in spite of the past, the future can be one of love with no excuses, no buts, and far fewer regrets unless they are that we all couldn't get together more often. It can happen! Will it? Tune in and see! Dear Lord, as my eyes are still leaking, I reach out to You for comfort. How my mother hurt me, Lord! How I hurt her! We shamed You so with our inability to forgive and to let love conquer all. I don't want my legacy to be one of shame nor one that tears apart my family, God. Please help me each minute of my life to be mindful of the words I say, the actions I display, and the favoritism shown that makes one feel more highly while the other feels forlorn. May I not be that way! May I not love one more than the other! May I not confuse, confound, or discredit any of my family and make them feel unloved or not good enough. May I reflect You, Lord, in all of the people I love--in truth. Oh God! My soul is so sad for the loss of what should have been. I know the past cannot be changed so my hope is that the future, the present, the now will be better for these hard and painful lessons learned. If it be Your will, reunite my siblings and me. Give our kids the opportunity to be better than the sorry examples we have been. I have great-nieces and great-nephews that I have never seen, never held, never smooched on. I want them to know me, to know that Granny Stef or Great-Aunt Stef or whatever it is that want to call me will be a welcomed presence in their lives, one who loves without holding back, and a woman that they can always count on showing them unconditional love. I ask this with my whole heart, in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Proverbs 22:1
Wandering Through the Bible shared Stefanie Hutcheson's video.
What's in a name? Hmn. A lot! Our names define us, label us, and allow us to be specified to when in a crowd. For instance, if we were all Johns and/or Susies and were in a place and someone shouted out "Hey John!" or "Hey Susie!" there would be no way of telling us apart, no way of knowing just which John and/or Susie was being referred to.
Many of us were named after someone so there is an expectancy, a heritage to live up to. Today I had a new "nephew" born and he was given a biblical name so his parents, in their own way, have some preset expectations for him. Others of us were not named after any specific soul, so our destinies have not been preordained to be fulfilled in any certain way.
Proverbs 22:1 states that: A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold. It's nice when we can fulfill the suggestions of the Bible in order to become better people. But what about those of us who have names that we feel…well, less than proud of? Ashamed of even. What of us whose names bear negative connotations that we had nothing to do with yet are branded with?
Lately, I have been considering having my name legally changed. Not my married name but my so-called maiden name. My reasons are many but most deal with the fact that the "family name" makes me feel shame. I have avoided using it and hate those forms that I have to fill out that ask for it. In fact, I shun using it as much as possible and even when I catch up with old high school and/or college buddies that knew me by it, I try to get them to just remember me as "Stef with an F" or via friends I hung out with. Lastly, I want rid of this name because it reminds me of my mother disowning me in her last will and testament. The anniversary of her death is in a couple of weeks and she has been on my mind.
Did you ever read Arthur Miller's book "The Crucible"? In it, John Proctor, the protagonist of the story, was accused of witchcraft (when in fact it was adultery that was his sin). Here's a quick recap, via SparkNotes:
"Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!"
Proctor utters these lines at the end of the play, in Act IV, when he is wrestling with his conscience over whether to confess to witchcraft and thereby save himself from the gallows. The judges and Hale have almost convinced him to do so, but the last stumbling block is his signature on the confession, which he cannot bring himself to give. In part, this unwillingness reflects his desire not to dishonor his fellow prisoners: he would not be able to live with himself knowing that other innocents died while he quaked at death's door and fled. More important, it illustrates his obsession with his good name. Reputation is tremendously important in Salem, where public and private morality are one and the same. Early in the play, Proctor's desire to preserve his good name keeps him from testifying against Abigail. Now, however, he has come to a true understanding of what a good reputation means and what course of action it necessitates—namely, that he tell the truth, not lie to save himself. "I have given you my soul; leave me my name!" he rages; this defense of his name enables him to muster the courage to die, heroically, with his goodness intact.
So, again I ask, what's in a name? Sigh. So so very much. Our reputations and what we stand for, Who we stand for, are often put on the line when our surnames are spoken. Rather than one of shame, guilt, and all those other negative words, I want mine to stand for truth, faith, and pride in being called a child of God. Do I have to go to legal lengths to get it done? Possibly. Or I could keep it as (another) thorn in my flesh: it can be a reminder that I'm not who I was, I'm not the same as my "family" was, and then perhaps I could use it as a witness of how far Jesus has brought me. But truthfully, the more I think about it, the more I want it gone. Each time I see it in print, it brings back yucky memories. Each time I hear it spoken, I cringe as I remember those to whom it belongs. It doesn't belong to me.
You know that song "There's A New Name Written Down in Glory"? When Christ adopted me into His family, I was given a new name when He wrote it down in The Book of Life. That took place long before I knew the dysfunctions of my heritage and I am so thankful that He did that for me. As I approach my sunset years, I think I am going to go ahead and take the steps to remove that old name from my books as well. I've got plenty of thorns still to poke me so why not get rid of one that can be taken care of with little effort? Besides, it's rare that it is used at all. Removing it from legal documents will alleviate one source of discomfort for me that will in a small way assist me. I won't have to be jabbed out of the blue and have to relive things that are best forgotten.
In conclusion, a good name is to be treasured above all. Watch this clip from a couple of years ago when my grandson Walker feared that the ocean was about to wipe his away. Even small children know the value of great things.
Let's pray.
Dear Father in Heaven,
Thank You for the opportunity to have a good name through Your Son Jesus Christ. As I embark on the legalities of having my maiden name removed from my life, help me to also remove other hindrances that keep me from bringing honor to You. Baby steps. One step at a time. Lord, I want to be like You and I cannot do it if I have so many stumbling stones that keep tripping me up. You know how I like to be bare-footed: help me to have a path that is straight and debris free. In Jesus' Name I ask, amen.
Proverbs 17:22
Proverbs 17:22
I dare you to look at this picture and not smile. I sure can't.
This is my oldest grandson. Walker. How he makes me smile! What joy he brings to my soul! I tell you the truth: if he was not in my life, I would not smile as often as I do—which is a lot. The stories he tells. The mixed-up adages. For instance, the other day, his brother Connor was in his best "Thor" mode. Connor was wanting, and then insisting, that I fill up the peanut lid with more nuts for him to munch on. I had my hands full and told him, "Connor, not everyone is going to jump when you speak." Ever looking for a good time, Walker chimes in, "I will, Connor. Say something." Connor made one of his crazy noises and Walker immediately sprang into action, literally jumping up and down, to show me that indeed, someone would jump each time Connor spoke! Later, we were in the PPR (that's Pretty Purple Room to the layperson) and Walker sneezed. He began rubbing his nose and said, "Granny, my nozzle is itching." I looked at him deciphering what he had said, and a smile started in my eyes. "That's what it is, right? A nozzle?" I laughed and said, "Nostril." He began laughing with me as well and said he was going to call it his nozzle.
This boy, this small five-year-old kid, creates so much merriment in my life. Merry is a peculiar word. The Definition of MERRY, per Merirram-Webster, is
1archaic
: giving pleasure :
delightful
2: full of gaiety or high spirits :
mirthful
3: marked by festivity or gaiety
4:
quick, brisk <a merry pace>
There is definitely an air of festivity when Walker is around! And when he isn't? The air is noticeably different. Less delightful. Lower spirits. How can one spend a whole day with this kid, be almost be glad when it's time for him to leave because he has taken all of the life out of me, and then the moment the door shuts behind him, feel such an emptiness in her soul?
Isn't this how it is when one has experienced Jesus? He fills us, gives us so much pleasure, makes our hearts so happy, and we are filled to the brim of our souls when around His people. Then, when we leave the church service or the festivity or small group or Bible Study, we are immediately filled with a sense of loss? A sense of "why didn't I stay just a little bit longer?" A feeling of something being left behind that we want back.
It doesn't have to be this way. We can take Jesus with us everywhere we go! He can do us so much better than any medicine. He can make our dry old bones be filled with vigor and renew our joy. Will we let Him? Will we take Him with us wherever we might go?
Sometimes my face hurts from smiling so much and my ribs ache a smidge from the laughter I experience when my two gsons are around. But it's a good hurt, a great medicine for my cynical heart. I think I need a dose now! Let's pray!
Dear God, o how wonderful You are to give us physical reminders of Your love, Your humor, and Your desire for Your children to experience joy unspeakable. Thank You for using children to brighten up this world. Thank You for my two boys, Lord, that do my heart so good. But mostly, God, I thank You for You. You didn't have to do this for me but You want me to know love like You have for me. Through these kids I see it; I see You. Now that is awesome!
In Jesus' Name I thank You! Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)