A Life-changing Phone Call and Lessons Learned

By on April 9, 2012 in a mother's heart, hope for the weary mom, Life Lessons

“Honey?” (shaky breath) “Andrew’s been in an accident. His injuries are serious but not life threatening. He was hit head on.”

My husband’s quivering voice brought the phone call no mom wants to get. It came unexpectedly in early January, and life quickly changed for this mom of four sons.

Most of you boy moms would call me a survivor because my boys are in college and beyond at this point. But I’m still in the trenches, just not the same ones you’re in right now. And once a mom, always a mom – especially in times like this.

We had to travel states away, enduring long flights and layovers to get to him, but thank the Lord his oldest brother was only an hour or so away. The oldest was at his brother’s side when we got there and stayed right there for days. What a blessing brothers can be to each other!

We brought our “boy” home to recover since he’s single and would be wheelchair-bound for a number of months. We’ve seen progress and he’s healing and getting stronger and we’re so thankful. There’s still a lot of work to be done to get him back in his own apartment and job, but he’s working hard with that goal in mind.

These last three months have been a whirlwind. Life has been all about this event and how to move beyond it. As I contemplated this post, I decided I could share a few things that would cut across the lines of this experience to every boy mom’s life. So here they are:

1. Cherish every day with your boy—good, tough, frustrating. They’re all good.

2. Nurture brother love. They’ll really need each other one day.

3. Admit that sometimes one boy needs a bit more from you than another. That’s life. Do your best to spread the mom love around, but know that it’ll all even out in the end.

4. Realize that life can change oh-so-quickly. Of course it will take you by surprise, but live close enough to your Heavenly Father that you can lean on Him.

5. Treasure scripture. The words of our Heavenly Father are always lovely, but in a time like this, they’re just pure sustenance to your soul. Memorize as much as you can so it just bubbles up out of your heart. Put the Bible on your phone so you’ll carry it with you.

A friend sent this scripture specifically for me one morning and it’s been printed and on our kitchen table ever since:

“LORD, be gracious to us; we long for you. Be our strength every morning, our salvation in time of distress. He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure.” (Isaiah 33:2, 6 NIV)

6. Let people help you. Let me say that again, Mom—let people help you. Most of us do far too little of letting others help. Let go of your pride and say, “Yes, I could use some help” when someone asks. Believe it or not, it blesses others to help you.

7. Thank God for every little thing. (Yes, Ann Voskamp!) Those little things come to mean so much, and thanking Him reminds you that He’s the Source of it all.

I could go on and on. I’ve learned so much! My challenge now is to take those lessons learned in the darkness back into the light of every day—and to share them with the moms I know.

We’ve all had dark days of one kind or another. Don’t cover those up. Drag them out into the light and use their lessons to encourage another mom today.

Will you?

3 Comments

Clean Hands, Clean Hearts

By on March 30, 2012 in a mother's heart, connection with boys, guest post, Life Lessons

There’s a special place in heaven for the person who invented hand sanitizer.

Thanks to that blessed soul, moms’ lives everywhere are easier and cleaner. Modern mathematics cannot compute the number of times I’ve said “Go get cleaner!” to my children. My boys, ages seven and five and their rascally little sister, age three, find creative ways to get their hands dirty before they’re even out of their pajamas.

Glue.

Permanent marker.

Pancake syrup.

Snot.

Pee.

Name it. They find it.

To prevent daily flooding in the bathroom, and thereby saving my marriage, I sometimes encourage my children to use hand cleaner instead of washing their hands with soap and water. It’s quicker. It’s easier. It’s more convenient. The fact that it saves Mama’s bathroom is just a big, fat bonus.

Then there are times they spend the entire day outside. We’re blessed to live on an acre of property where God sprinkled 150 towering oak trees. It is heaven for our kids.

If it’s anywhere between 40 and 110 degrees, my boys are out there. They dig for worms – and find them. They climb trees. They run and jump and pretend their little pants off. Sometimes literally.

But, eventually it’s time to come in. This is the moment we all dread. They don’t want to come inside and I don’t want to clean them off. Ever heard the phrase “shoveling snow in a blizzard”? That’s how I feel each night.

They strip their clothes (to be burned later) and I ask them to get cleaned up. To my oldest child, Jacob, this makes sense. My typical first born, methodical, rule-follower knows how to get clean.

Then, there’s my darling middle child.

After a full day of running, jumping, and playing, Benjamin has been known to disrobe for his evening bath, pull his pants down and say, “Huh. I forgot to wear underwear today, Mama!”

Recently, after they played all day outside, I made a picnic dinner and asked them to get ready to eat. Jacob took the time to wash and scrub his hands so thoroughly he could have performed surgery. (Thank you, Lord, for one clean child!) As I served the meal, Benjamin reached for his plate and I saw the gunk that still caked his sweet little hands.

“Benjamin, did you wash your hands?”

“Yup.”

“With soap?”

“Nope. I just used cleaner.”

I inspected his hand and saw the remnants of dirt, grass, snot and tree sap with a hint of hand cleaner streaked into the grooves of his palm.

“Buddy, when your hands actually have dirt on them, you have to wash them off with soap and water. Cleaner just smears it around.”

“But I thought cleaner was good enough.”

“No, it cleans hands that are already pretty clean. It can’t remove the dirt.”

That’s when God hit me.

I often tell people that God whispers to some, raises His voice at others, and then for some of us, He has to use His sovereign 2×4 to lovingly hit us over the head.

Aren’t we sometimes just like my middle child? We go through our entire day smearing pride, selfishness, envy, worldliness and anger all over our hearts, and we expect a quick five minute devotional the next morning to get us clean. We want to use heart sanitizer instead of allowing our Father to really scrub that gunk off.

It takes longer.

It’s never as easy.

It’s much less convenient.

But, taking shortcuts in my relationship with Him, makes my heart no cleaner than Benjamin’s hands. Just because I think I’m clean, doesn’t mean I am. Benjamin thought his muddy fingers were clean, but I sure wouldn’t lick the Cheetoh off if he asked me to.

God wants us to devote real time to Him each day. To truly soak up the promises of His Word. To implement them. To memorize them. To be changed by them.

Friend, we live in a very dirty world. Heart sanitizer isn’t gonna cut it. Only He can get us deep-down, scrubbed-and-polished clean.

A Mama who does her best to have clean hands, but more importantly, a clean heart is the best gift any son could receive.

Caroline is a former middle school Math teacher who traded in fractions for diapers. She is blessed to be a stay at home mom to her three children, Jacob (7), Benjamin (5), and Abigail (3). Married to her college sweetheart for a decade and counting, Caroline is often reminded of God’s sense of humor as He paired together such two opposite-natured people. Throughout the last few years, Caroline has faced a serious medical trial, leaving her to praise God from her couch through her blog www.carolineholzberger.com.

18 Comments

Parenting by Faith: Overcoming Fear

By on March 19, 2012 in a mother's heart, adventure, guest post, Life Lessons, Raising Older Boys, Uncategorized

We all want for our sons to be courageous;  to be able to face difficulty, danger or pain without fear.

But what happens when our young men want to step out and do something so courageous, so out of the ordinary, that we fear for them?

I have often been asked that question because 4 years ago, our then 16-year old son came to my husband and me asking to do something just such as this.  It was courageous and bold, beyond anything that we would have ever dreamed for him.

Our son is Zac Sunderland. The question he asked was if we would let him sail around the world.  In fact, it was less of a question and more of a statement.  Something like, “I could do that you know.” He was referring to the round the world sailing documentary we had just watched as a family.

The main reason that we wholeheartedly embraced this undertaking was in some ways simple;  we had been praying for him to find a passion that he could pour his considerable energy into.

The other reasons were more complicated and came from a lifetime of God gently leading us to let go of fear in raising our children and following the Lord’s direction for their lives.

A Pattern of Fear Broken

Moms of young children can relate to the fear of not knowing exactly how to parent these precious gifts from God.  Are they turning over, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking at the right ages?  Are they advanced or behind?  And, oh my, what if they are?

Then comes the terrible 2s {or in our case the terrible 3s}.  Even with my degree in psychology and after the many courses on child development I took while I was in college, I still wondered if I had done something terribly wrong the first time my son threw a tantrum in public.  A tantrum so outrageous that I’m sure the other parents who were at the park that fearsome day still speak of it!  Yet, the boy grew, his brain developed and he overcame his impulsiveness, learning to use words and not fists.  Most kids do, you know.

Then came school.  Private or public – could we homeschool?  What would be the best thing for our child.  Fear, doubt.

Then the learning struggles.  How can such a bright child not be reading by now?  What if he never learns to read?  Yet learn he does.  In His timing.

Puberty.  He has hair where?  Calm yourself.  Breathe.  Young men have been going through puberty since the beginning of time.

Yet the fear, the worry is there;  rooted in a desire to provide the very best upbringing for our children.  Yet what does the worry gain for us?  Does it make adolescence any easier for them?  for us?  I think not!

Then prayer;  deep, fervent, heart-felt prayers for the heavenly Father to step in to take control.  Oh, was that where we should have been all along?  Should we have laid these fears down – taking these thoughts captive that come against the all-loving, all-knowing, all-powerful Creator of the universe;  the creator of my child, my children.  LORD, fill him with your purpose, your passion.  Guide him onto the path that you have for him.

Then…

“I could do that.”

“Yes, you could.”

And looking back at this boy’s life, it is as if he had been preparing for this adventure for his entire life.

With prayer, there is confidence.  There is a deep understanding of a the strength of God that is ever present in our lives and the lives of our families.

If you look back through your life, the same pattern is there.  God has been gently leading you from one experience to the other.  He uses the one experience to grow you so that you are prepared for the next.

He is faithful and leads our children through experiences they need to form their character.  Even {and especially} the hardships that our children face are surely there for their benefit.

He tends his flock like a shepherd:  He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart;  he gently leads those that have young.  Isaiah 40:10-12

Marianne Sunderland is a homeschooling mom of 8 lively and adventurous children – 4 boys and 4 girls.  Married for more than 20 years, she attributes all of her worldly ‘successes’ to an ever-deepening walk with God.  Her heart’s desire is to encourage other wives and mothers and attempts do so at her blog Abundant Life.

3 Comments

A Love Letter

By on March 14, 2012 in a mother's heart, Gentle Parenting, guest post, Life Lessons

Beloved child, gift of God,

I’m writing this now, for such a time as may come when my thoughts are too distracted to tell you how deeply you are loved and what praise I have offered heaven because of you.  I’m writing now, as your Dad and I are watching the world through your 6-year-old eyes, when life’s worst temptation means sneaking an extra cookie after dinner.

Now, when there is no millstone of waywardness around our family’s neck.  I pray this letter never has a need for sending.  But if we should endure a squandered season with one of our children, there are things the others need to know, truths that will likely go unshared in the tumult of the prodigal’s journey.

For me, the good-son of Jesus’ parable has always been the more intriguing character.  How long had he been striving to do right in order to balance his brother’s wrongs?  How did his relationship with a clearly loving father become so aloof and duty-bound?  I think I might know, having been a good-daughter once myself.

I imagine that when the prodigal son disappointed his father, the good-son was anxious to please.

When his father was deceived, the good-son determined to live beyond reproach.

When the family name was sullied, the good-son worked tirelessly to bring it honor.

When the family was sorrowed, the good-son tried to humor, deflect, overcompensate, desperately wishing a return to his childhood days that skipped lightly by.

In the end, I imagine the good-son despaired that no amount of effort could bandage the wound that had been torn open in the family.  And his father may never have noticed the collateral damage at his feet, with his eyes turned ever to the horizon.

In those darkest turns of the sun, you too, good-son, may grapple with a rising sense of resentment and jealousy.  You’ll pitch from wanting to disown your sibling to a frenzied determination to force his restoration by sheer will.  And then you’ll feel shamed to harbor such emotions, as a good-son would never allow a  heart so darkened.  You’ll commit yourself to deeper prayer, hoping that your zeal will somehow move God’s heart to action.  And you’ll silently thirst for quiet times of affection with us, reprieves from the madness when we talk only about you, freely, intentionally and without the nagging sense that there is always another conversation going on inside Mom’s head that has nothing to do with the child before her and everything to do with the child who has fled.

You see, a prodigal’s wanderlust compels his siblings on a journey, too, against their wishes, without their permission.  Ironically, both these journeys end at the  throne of grace and the Heavenly Father’s heart of love.  The prodigal must come to understand that not even his deepest rebellion can exclude him from the Father’s embrace.  And the good-son must come to realize that no height of obedience can earn him a single nod of the Father’s approval.  The lesson for both is learning that the Father’s love has nothing to do with being good at all.  It has everything to do with the perfect, finished work that has already been done for them by the great-Son who went on a journey of bleeding sacrifice 2,000 years ago.

And so if we should find ourselves in the midst of rebellion, I want you to know that we might forget to tell you that we love you.  We’ll probably assume you know that we’re proud of you. We may be too prayer-worn to ask if you have prayer needs of your own.  Forgive us, precious one.  It will never be our intent, but may often be our flaw.  As your earthly parents, we will undoubtedly fall short of our heart’s desire to love you lavishly.  But if you can grasp what the good-son of Scripture did not, that the Father’s love can never be merited, only freely received, then you will have grasped the key of grace and the door into the Beloved will be open to you. Seek shelter there during the storm and wait until the morning star rises upon our family with healing in His wings.

I love you, I do,

Mom

Jen Gunning is a former farm girl married to a former city boy currently raising triplets in the suburbs.  Over the last 15 years, God has poured out seasons of matchless delight into her life as she’s watched her 3 miracles unfold and sheltered he family through seasons of sorrow, including infertility, miscarriage and cancer.

*********

Don’t forget to pick up your copy of the very first collaborative work from the MOB Society Writers! From Mom’s Failure to God’s Grace is available now, and your purchase today helps end Bible poverty for the people of the DRC, ravaged by civil war and in need of the hope of the Gospel. Just $2.99 for your Kindle or as a immediate PDF download.

Stories of Raising Boys from the MOB Society Writers

 

 

4 Comments
« Older Posts
Newer Posts »