looking through me

Tag: lessons

October 25, 2014

Prayer Moms

I have a startling number of moms.

Only one has the official title of Mom. But there are a number of her friends who didn’t make it into the “aunt” category for me. In some ways they were too close for that title. Often they were—and still are—the moms of my friends and friends of my mom. By nature of proximity they became moms to me, too. Their hugs and raised eyebrows filled in at their homes as my mom’s did at my home. It seemed a mom was always present wherever I was.

But it was more than that ring of moms who encircled me. Four moms had a label. My mom committed to praying with three friends when I was eight. For 22 years they met weekly to pray for their nine collective children. They’ve prayed us through school, eight weddings, one child’s death, 17 grandchildren, 1 great-grandchild, multiple states and countries of residence, job changes, health issues and the everyday minutiae of life.

And though their weekly and later monthly gatherings no longer happen like clockwork, they will always be my Prayer Moms.

When my words fail me, I’m comforted by the knowledge my prayer moms are not silent. They faithfully bring me to Jesus’ feet.

 

This post is part of the 31 Days: Family series. Read the beginning, and see a full index of posts, here.

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October 23, 2014

Oh, Brothers

I don’t know what triggered it. One minute I was on stage practicing with the praise band and the next minute I was hiding in the choir room hugging my knees to my chest, eyes pressed into kneecaps—sobbing.

I heard the door open and close. I felt arms encircle me.

There were no words. She knew.

The eldest had moved away. The middle wouldn’t be moving back for a couple months. I was brother-less and lost.

Somehow I thought even as the adults we’d become we would land in the same place. I thought enduring the middle’s out-of-state college years was the end. But now—right before his return—the eldest had moved 400 miles away for grad school. And I realized he might not come back. This distance might be the new normal, and I didn’t think I could bear it.

I did. Barely.

We established new routines of visits and phone calls. When he finished grad school and chose to accept a job in his adopted locale, I’d almost become accustomed to the distance. And when I moved out of state, it was the brothers’ turn to visit me.

There was something I didn’t know that night in the choir room. I had no idea how adaptable and flexible and creative the three of us could be. And while I still hope we find a way to narrow the distance at some point, I’ve found the fear of distance to be hollow. I had no idea the elasticity of our bond.

 

This post is part of the 31 Days: Family series. Read the beginning, and see a full index of posts, here.

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