Recently I was touched by a story a dear friend shared with me.  She is the mother of 5, three girls and two boys.  One of her sons passed away a few years ago unexpectedly when he was in his early twenties, following a seizure.   The younger son has really struggled since the death of his brother.  He’s suffered a lot of personal tragedy as a result.  My friend knows deep sadness.  Brokenness that has brought her face down at the feet of her Savior Jesus.  Her faith has grown from brokenness.

My friend, whose name is Nancy, has moments when scenarios of mothering “failures” invade her thinking to the point she’s almost paralyzed with sadness and regret.  Honestly, I thought that was a problem that I alone dealt with until my conversations with Nancy.  Since the two of us deal with mental anguish of this nature, I’m led to assume that most/all moms do.  Scenes that play over and over in our mind while our internal voice screams:  “Why oh why did I do that?  What was I thinking?  I failed.  I failed at my most important job”   Satan loves to use that tactic because it’s such an easy, effective way of defeating mothers.  (Side note:  don’t let him.  Don’t.  Jesus provides power to conquer that nonsense.  Speaking to myself here. Read on)
Every year when the anniversary of Nancy’s son’s death comes around, she fights deep deep sadness and grief.  Last month that anniversary date was approaching and again Nancy found herself just struggling to avoid tearful meltdowns no matter where she was or what she was doing.  The old regretful scenes were running an around-the-clock marathon of reruns in her mind.  But like we all do when the stuff of life happens, she kept putting one foot in front of the other with the usual daily routines of work and watching her grandchildren.  Just coping as best she could while internally missing her boy so badly.  
During this time, Nancy found herself needing to take her preschool aged granddaughter on a four hour errand trip, just the two of them.   This would be a healthy distraction, she hoped.   As she drove along the roadways her little granddaughter fell asleep in the back seat, leaving her basically alone in a quiet car with her thoughts.  With nothing but a steering wheel to hold onto, and nowhere to go but miles of open highway, she was swept away in sadness.  Missing her boy as an adult son. Missing him as a little boy.  Missing him.  Missing hearing his voice call her “Mommy”.  Wanting with every fiber of her being to just even catch a glimpse of him again and give him a hug.   And then, of course, replaying the scenes of regret over and over and over, wondering if there was something she could have done differently, better.  She found herself just uncontrollably sobbing, her body wracked with deep grieving excruciating sadness.  There in that car she called out in prayer to God, asking for Him to help her.  To just help her stop sobbing.  To just hold her, and give her some sort of assurance that she hadn’t been a horrible mommy.  Unable to stop crying, she realized she had to do something to change her focus or risk having a car wreck.  As she looked in the rear view mirror she noticed her granddaughter had shifted position while sleeping and was needing to have her seatbelt adjusted.  She took an off ramp onto a dirt country road and found a place to safely stop the car.  Her eyes swollen and red from crying, her face a sad mess, she turned around to the back seat to reposition her little granddaughter.  When she looked up a man had driven up, parked his car and walked over to speak to her.  Apparently he mistook her for the woman who delivers mail in that area and thought he’d just pick up his mail from her car.  She explained to him that no, she was just adjusting her granddaughter’s seat belt and then was heading on down the road to her destination.  She finished up and was turning back to drive away when the man looked at her and said “You are a good mommy.”  Then he drove away.  
That little five minute exchange with a random stranger was an answer to the prayer she’d just prayed.  God heard her prayers.  He sent an angel to minister to her needs and that angel said “You are a good mommy”.  Nancy was overcome with the presence of God as she traveled on down the road to her destination.  God was hugging her tight.  Holding her close.  Healing her wounds.  Wiping her tears.  Giving her strength to make it through the storm of sadness.  
God has ways of wrapping his loving arms around us, and he will do just that when we call out to him.  He will do whatever it takes to heal our broken hearts and make us whole again when He hears our cries of desperation.   Oh how he loves us.  Oh.  How he loves us so.  He is a good, good Father.  And we are His children.  His dearly loved, precious children.
“For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.
 In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone.” Psalm 91:11-12

8 thoughts on “Mommy

  1. What a powerful and beautiful story! I agree, Satan loves to attack mothers with their failures and regrets, and we all suffer those moments, even when our children are still here, and grown up, and doing well. It brings me comfort that God understands the heart of a mother, and tenderly reminds us that we were never asked to be perfect, and His grace covers our past mistakes.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. He is such a good Father. Giving us grace that we need and comfort in the hard times. My friend Nancy’s other son was killed in a motorcycle accident two years after I wrote this blog post. She leans heavy on Jesus. 😭🙏

      Liked by 1 person

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