we are mamas

This weekend was Family Weekend at Child #3’s new college. Of course, I went, because it’s been four weeks since we dropped her off there and four weeks is a l-o-n-g time. It’s FOUR weeks. Possibly, I miss that kid.

We had the privilege of watching a beautiful ceremony as she was inducted into what they refer to as the Mac Scholars program, a group of students chosen to pursue an honors track. Standing at the bottom of three flights of stairs, she ascended them to take her place among the other students. It’s a visual reminder that she is taking her place in the world now, as well as in that program, and a momma can be both proud and sad at moments like that.

I am not good at saying goodbye to my kids. It’s kind of a teaser to invite me back after only a month in. I’ve informed them all that it would be perfectly within reason for us all to buy several acres some day and build four different houses on it. I’m sure we could work this out.

With all this fresh in my mind and heart, I watch the news stories. And I realize—we are blessed. I knew that. But the sadness of goodbyes throws that reality into a light where I can more clearly see other mothers, and other goodbyes. And I know the truth.

East of us, other mothers watch their children being murdered because of their parents’ faith. They say their goodbyes in both deep grief and deep faith that I cannot fathom. South of us, mothers are desperate enough to put their babies in the hands of strangers in the hopes a new country will save them from drug cartels that kill and enslave. It is an act of both hope and goodbye I cannot grasp.

We are mothers. We are together. And my own grief, so slight in comparison, breaks my heart for them and the decisions they have to make.

My child is where she belongs. Because she wants to be. She has been allowed to grow up and do what one of her heroes, Malala, nearly gave her life for-get an education. Freely. She will take the place God means for her to be without opposition or violence. And I know we are blessed and I have no room for complaint that she can do that.

My heart is broken for the other mamas saying goodbye whose daughters do not have a choice.

Today, fresh from our visit, fresh from watching child #3 go up those stairs and become part of her tomorrow, I want to remember to appreciate it. I want to remember to wrestle in prayer for those other mamas. To do what I can from where I am. We are mamas. We are one. I am more blessed than I deserve. 

PS: Speaking of mamas and kids and all that–There is a new book out TODAY that I am very excited about. And it isn’t even mine! It’s Amy Sullivan’s When More Is Not Enough: How To Stop Giving Your Kids What They Want and Give Them What They Need

Amy talks about her family’s journey from self-centeredness to other-centeredness. (Yes, that’s a word now. Because it should be.) She also gives practical ideas on how to make that happen in your home. 

If you know me at all, you know that from time to time I will post interviews here for other authors, tweet for them, etc. Rarely will I flat out say GO BUY THIS BOOK. I value your trust, and I don’t want to violate it by advocating anything I would not have written myself. So–if I tell you you need this, I mean it. Anyone with kids, grandkids, church school kids, etc. Take a look. 

Besides, Amy is just one of the best all around best people I know. That’s saying a lot. 🙂 

2 thoughts on “we are mamas

  1. Pingback: Weeping with Ramah this Christmas - The Glorious Table

  2. Pingback: Weeping with Rachel – jill.m.richardson

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