Mother

This post will, in a way, continue with the ideas I explored in yesterday's post. Again, for the sake of flushing some stuff out of my system, I will repackage information that I've probably already written about. Thanks again for reading.

"Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man shows, that he will also reap. For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life." (Galatians 6:7-8)

About 15 years ago, I was at a church-related meeting in somebody's apartment, and a friend approached me and said she had a word for me from God. To her, it was vague: She kept hearing, "you reap what you sow" and "the secret place." To me, later it became clear: God was telling me that I hadn't sown anything into the secret place with Him, so I wasn't going to reap anything. If I remember correctly, I had been reading the Bible and praying like I was supposed to, but that "secret place" with Him -- the hidden, intimate, special place that nobody sees but me and Him -- was one that I hadn't touched for a while. So, God disciplined me. For one week, He was silent. Every time I would try to enter the secret place again by saying something like, "Hi, God, how's it going?" I wouldn't get an answer. Since this was God disciplining me, I didn't feel condemned, ashamed, or hopeless. I knew it wouldn't last long, I knew what I had done wrong (or what I'd failed to do), and I knew how I needed to change. So, after that weeklong silence, I started sowing into the secret place like crazy.

I learned an extremely important lesson that week: You reap what you sow. If you don't sow into a relationship, you won't reap a relationship. Unfortunately, I've had to use this lesson while I've set boundaries with my other friendships or end them altogether. It's been excruciating, but it's been eye-opening to see one of God's laws in motion, and it's also been liberating to choose to let other people reap what they've sown, even if it's nothing.

I hope this doesn't sound completely heartless, but it's sort of like ripping off a hangnail. A hangnail that has been dangling on my finger is a bit painful and annoying. I know I can't keep it there forever. So, if I rip it off, it will probably hurt, it will more than likely bleed, and it might be sore for a day or two. But after the ripped-off place on my finger heals, I won't even remember that the hangnail was there.

"Without wood a fire goes out; without a gossip a quarrel dies down. As charcoal to embers and as wood to fire, so is a quarrelsome person for kindling strife. The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down to the inmost parts." (Proverbs 26:20-22, NIV)

The relationship with your mother, in general, tends to be a bit deeper and closer than the relationship with your father. At least, technically, I think that's how it's supposed to work, especially in theory. The mother is the one who carries you in her womb for 9 months, so that's 9 extra months that she has to get to know you.

I think the mother is the social and educational epicenter of the home. When I was growing up, life would stop anytime mother wasn't around. Whenever she was at work, the house would become almost silent, and as soon as she'd walk in the door again, the house would burst with activity. (And she'd tell us to stay away from her because she was sick of dealing with people all day on her feet. Can't blame her for that.)

The mother is the nurturer. She's the one who takes her little ones under her wing and tenderly shows them the ropes of how to live life. She's the one who cuts their meat, wipes their noses, keeps their little fingers away from door hinges, tells them to wear a coat in the wintertime, and wipes away their sweat in the summertime. Mother is hands-on, in-your-face, at-your-side nonstop parenting. When you're hungry, she's the one who's supposed to feed you.

I think gossiping is one way in which the nurturing aspect of motherhood is perverted. If you have a gossiping mother, instead of feeding you in order to satisfy your legitimate appetites of stomach-hunger, intimate relationship, or learning in general, she feeds you "choice morsels" to satisfy an evil appetite for gossip. Gossip is basically a humongous, whacked-out exaltation of another person's faults. It's an extended, secret criticism of another person's weaknesses. It's a hidden attack on another person for the sake of cutting them down and lifting yourself up. (Hmm. That sounds like exactly what the devil does.) Gossip is addicting, and it's extremely possible to participate in it without even realizing it.

Unfortunately, my ex-mother was a gossip. On Saturday nights, we'd paint our nails together. Instead of her nurturing my dreams or letting me share my deepest, most intimate struggles with her, she and I would talk about other people behind their backs. We would criticize church people, and we would criticize relatives. Then I would get confused later when she'd talk to these people as if she liked them.

My point is, that was how my ex-mother and I bonded: over other people's shortcomings. That isn't a relationship. That's a news report.

A few weeks ago, I enjoyed a huge burrito breakfast before I started my workday. This was a big deal, because I love breakfast burritos, and I don't cook anymore. When I had a mother, she was a very good cook, and breakfast burritos were one of her specialties. Now that I don't have her anymore, I sometimes miss the cooking, but I think that's why God invented Whataburger.

Very recently, I purchased a couple of pairs of slacks that were too long for me, so I took them to the cleaners for some alterations. This was a big deal, because I had never paid money to have clothes altered before. When I had a mother, she was a very good seamstress, and she would always hem my slacks or repair my clothes for me. Now that I don't have her anymore, I'm relieved to discover that I live in very reasonable driving distance to a very reasonably priced dry-cleaning establishment.

So, God takes care of me. I can't exactly drive my Toyota up to heaven and place a breakfast order at His drive-thru, and I can't exactly walk up to heaven and drop off my slacks at His dry-cleaning counter for alterations, but He finds a way to provide me exactly what I need, mother or no mother.

So, after I enjoyed the burritos that my mother didn't cook for me, and after I triumphantly picked up my altered slacks that my mother didn't hem for me, I realized that the lady who I used to call my mother was really just a cook and a seamstress to me. She was a house cleaner and a gossip partner. And that was pretty much it.

Frankly, I think that's a very sad shame. I knew her for 35 years. I think that was plenty of time to get to know me -- the real me -- and intimately sow into a deep relationship. But that didn't happen. I was pushed away. So, I allowed her to reap what she had sown: nothing.

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands; your walls are ever before Me." (God talking in Isaiah 49:15-16, NIV)

Immediately after I broke up with my ex-parents, of course I wrestled with all kinds of emotions. I prayed one of the most random prayers that I've probably ever prayed: "Please don't let me turn into Darth Vader." I mean, all kinds of hell broke loose after Anakin Skywalker left his mama, right? Your relationship with your mother is a powerful thing, even if it's a non-relationship.

Several years ago, at a class at church, we were asked the question, "What did your father used to tell you whenever you'd fall and hurt yourself?" (I think we were expected to answer something like, "Walk it off" or "Put some dirt on it.") And we were asked, "What did your mother used to say whenever you'd get hurt?" (I think we were expected to answer, "Let me kiss it and make it better.") I don't remember this class exercise to be very helpful to me, because I remember thinking something like, "My father used to tell me to cry, and my mother used to tell me to stop crying." So, that part of my life was a tiny bit messed up.

But God is the perfect Parent who is the perfect Father and the perfect Mother simultaneously. I really feel like He's filled in the gaps for me where I've needed them, and He's healed many of my mother/father wounds just by developing a deep relationship with me. And He still is.

For example, while I was growing up, I think I needed to process a lot of things by talking them out. (Really? Tirzah the psychoblogger needing to express herself with words? Who'd a thunk?) Naturally, my ex-mother would have been the best place, the most appropriate relationship, for me to process my life. Unfortunately, her solution to every problem was "Take a nap," and her method of dealing with difficult people was "Just ignore them." But God has been meeting that nurturing relational need for me all along. I don't remember being able to openly talk with my ex-mother about crushes that I had on boys, but I remember being able to talk extremely openly with God about it. I remember during my "quiet time" one day, I was thinking about a boy that I liked extremely much, and God was like, "So, tell Me about him. What do you like about him?" And I lay down on the floor and looked up at the ceiling and gushed out my heart to Him as if I were at a slumber party. The boy never liked me back, but being able to talk about him to Somebody who was interested in hearing what I had to say made me feel loved.

One thing that my ex-parents did right with me was tell me that I needed to follow Jesus. That is definitely true. That got the ball rolling. That pointed me in the right direction to get reconciled with God. I hope each of my ex-parents has their own relationship with Jesus, too. Very frankly, I'm not sure if my ex-mother is saved, because when I've prayed for her, I've gotten the impression that God doesn't know who she is. If my impression is accurate, I hope she gets wind of it. It would be a catastrophic shame to not see both of my ex-parents again someday in heaven.

God is the ultimate Nurturer. God is the most intimate Friend. God is the God of all comfort. If our mothers fail to protect us, nurture us, comfort us, or bond with us, God can heal that. He can be a Mother to us. He can be a Father to us. He is the best example of how to parent a child. He is the best Source of intimacy, of deep relationship, of sacrificial love. He IS love.

Honestly, I would rather have that than painted nails any day.