Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: In and Out (04/30/09)
TITLE: For the Love of Mom
By Jennifer Morgan
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“Oh, I’m not sure. Steve wants me to take his car in to have a new stereo installed. Maybe I can swing by after that.”
“Well, the baby will probably be past her time of tolerance at that point, but maybe we can meet after she wakes up from her nap?”
“Sure, I might be able to make it around 3:00. Just give me a call and I’ll let you know if I can do it or not.”
Are you kidding me?! She agreed to meet me at 11:30. Why does she think she can blow us off for whatever Steve wants from her? I was here first! My daughter, her granddaughter, should be the most important thing to her right now. But she never is, and nothing hurts me more. Nine months ago she wanted to pursue retirement to be a stay-at-home-grandma, and now she barely shows up. Steve always ranks first and we’re lucky we’re rank at all.
The resolution to continually respond with grace is wearing on me. I want to forgive and show Mom God’s character, but I am angry and want to prove my point. Mothers should want to serve their children. When I say, “Mom, I’m suffering,” Mom should say, “What can I do for you?” But instead, she changes the subject, or infers that I’m big enough to figure it out on my own. That may be true, but what I really need is the heartfelt empathy of my mother.
The principle dials in. Mom will never be perfect. For reasons only God can understand, she married this man who shakes my nerves with each moment of contact. The choice is mine, to love her as she is, or to reject her because she has rejected me. Time and time again she has indicated Steve ranks as her chosen loved one, far above me or my daughter. I know the right thing is to show her Christ’s love in my actions and seek her out regardless of how I place in her life.
Logic fades out. How do I reconcile the repeated rejection? Each time I ask for her love and she refuses to provide it, I shrink back in shame and astonishment. I feel like a child of only 6 or 8 years, immaturely fearful of independence and disapproval. Thankfully, I know that God will again and again give me the strength to put my pride aside and ask my Mommy to love me. I must repeatedly ask Him to do this, because if it were up to me, I would quietly shrink away hoping to protect my hurting heart.
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