Prayers

Jun 11, 2012

Changing Roles....For My Daughter's 20th Birthday

I don't know if The Beautiful Redhead had any idea what she was starting when she offered to babysit for her friend's newborn daughter, I don't think any of us did, then.


I basically took her on initially as a project.  I thought I could be a good mentor to her, it would not cost me a dime, and it was a way for me to be able to give something back.  Since then I have grown to love her like a daughter and also as a dear friend, not to mention that I got a pretend grand child out of the deal.  I would not have missed this for the world.

This odd relationship has enriched all of our lives and I do not believe any of us would change a thing about it, all things considered.  In it I have been able to glimpse what my relationship with my own dear daughter will eventually be able to be, even though at the time this all started she was still in the phase of a teenager who mostly rolled her eyes at her mother.  It got me through some rough spots, I freely admit.  In addition, it has given my daughter a person who is just like an older sister, someone she can go to for advice and a guardian angel to watch out for her when I cannot.

My relationship with my bonus daughter was free from the constraints of my own children who were still in the years of believing their mother needed to be protected from the truth.  Truth be told, all most parent/child relationships need is absolute brutal honesty, which is asking a lot on both sides.

Sometimes I play the role of mother, sometimes friend with my bonus daughter.  Since we are both mothers, we usually come down on the same side of things, and this is a great comfort to me.

The other day my dear Abigail came to visit me.  We made blueberry pancakes wearing our aprons, then we went and fed some carrots to some horses.  Nothing big, but time together spent doing whatever we wanted.  She does not seem to know that The Beautiful Redhead is my daughter, and when I say she is, the pretend Grand Baby steadfastly insists "I am your child......" and I do not correct her.  She is most certainly the child of my heart, and too young to understand that love is the eternal spring that never runs dry.  There is more than enough to go around for all.  I let her have this truth, and am glad to do so.  The Beautiful Redhead, on the other hand, I think sometimes feels a little jealous.  I am ashamed to admit that this warms my heart because it proves to me that she still loves me.  She has just turned 20 and we are almost at the point where we can be equals in the emotional world of our hearts.  At last!  I rejoice for this, have worked and waited for this.

I recently picked up the phone for a conversation with my bonus daughter.  She was making dinner for my daughter, who makes Abigail mind, and Abigail says she is mean.  My bonus daughter has come to depend on my daughter to sometimes be the disciplinarian when she can't get Abigail to mind.  Just like real sisters!

At the beginning of the conversation we were talking as friends.  She was asking me what The Beautiful Redhead would eat, so I took on the role of mother.  At some point my daughter arrives and in the background I can hear her and Abigail having an animated conversation.  We keep talking.  In the background I can hear an escalation of noise.  All of a sudden my bonus daughter's voice becomes stressed and she says "I have to go now, The Beautiful Redhead and Abigail are fighting." And just like that, we were both mothers again.  I got off the phone laughing, grateful for the fact that while our roles all keep changing, they are also staying the same, and in the end the mothers are always in charge.

My Beautiful Redhead, Mackenzie Grace, this is to show you in case you ever feel alone, that you never are.  You will always have a friend, and a mother, and we will always love you no matter what you do.  When you are proud of yourself, when you are ashamed of yourself, when you don't know where to turn, come home to us.  We will never think less of you. We will defend you like dragons when you need it.  We have done it all before, and we will carry you and uphold you even when you cannot do that for yourself. 

I am so very proud of the person you have and continue to become.  You shine with bravery, grace and love.  You are smart, you know your own mind and you do not have a problem with speaking it.  I doubt that you realize how far ahead of the game you are.  You make up your mind and do not stray from your values.   You are true to yourself.  You have a beauty that will never fade because it originates in your soul.  The rest is just window dressing, and quite beautiful window dressing at that.  I don't know if you realize how beautiful you are, from the inside out.

For the days when you don't, here is proof.  I am so very blessed to have been lucky enough to be your mother.  My love for you has grown with you over the years.  The day you were born I thought I could never love you more, but I was so very wrong.  This love will keep growing, and every person you touch along the way will only multiply that love by however many people are lucky enough to know you.

I would not have missed these past 20 years for all the money or sleep in the world.  Never forget that.  I love you sweetie.  Here's to the next 120 years.  I will still be loving you then.

  

Jun 10, 2012

4 In The Morning.....

I have been haunted by the hour of 4 in the morning all my life.

I was born at 4 in the morning, locking eyes with my mother for the first time after hours of labor on both our parts, promising unspoken love and commitment, come what may.

As a young adult freed from the constraints of a curfew, 4 in the morning was when the birds started their first rustlings and tentative peeps.  This was the hour that I knew it was time to get to bed with the certain knowledge that I would be able to sleep well.  It was the hour that released me from the ceaseless energy and questing for I knew not what of youth.

It was 4 in the morning when I woke up resenting a tree frog's song, heavily pregnant with what would be my only daughter.  Thirty minutes later I was sure enough that it was the twinges of labor and not the song of the frog that had roused me.  It was the last hour that I would hold her privately within myself, the only one aware of her movements and musings.

Throughout my life it has always been 4 in the morning that I would wake up and be unable to go back to sleep.  I resented and cursed the hour for many years.  I trained myself never to look at the clock, foolish enough to think I could fool my soul into drifting back to sleep.  What folly!  As if a clock could ever possibly influence a soul!

It has always been futile.

I have reached the age where I no longer resent it.

4 in the morning is an hour well known to farmers and bakers alike.  It is the hour that holds the last of full darkness in the summer time.  It is the hour where, if you get up, you can have several hours of peace and quiet and time for contemplation.  It is the hour where you can pray without distraction, see your path clearly without justification or condemnation.  It is the hour where you can hold yourself accountable and forgive yourself the selfishness that seems to rule us all.  It is the hour you can take responsibility for your sins and believe that you can do better in the coming day.  You can watch the stars wheeling around in their predictable, eternal path, faithfully secure that the world will continue to turn despite our human meddling.

At 4 in the morning there is no one to see you.  You are able to see both past and future without judgement, just as facts.  The past seems farther away and the future stretches ahead of you absent of fear.  Anything at all is possible at 4 in the morning.

I have ruminated on this hour and why I have been haunted by it all my life.  It seems to me only fitting and proper that this will be the hour of my death.  It is an hour in which a person can slip away to glory, knowing their loved ones will have a few more precious hours of obliviousness before their world's will be changed forever.

In summer it is the last hour of cool quiet.  In winter it is the hour of absolute dead of night.

It has become my favorite hour, an old friend who never fails to show up on time.  It keeps me and comforts me now.  I have grown accustomed to it's faithfulness, and now appreciate the time to prepare myself for whatever a day will bring.

Hope can grow at 4 in the morning, before the glaring sun reveals all the imperfections in ourselves and this world.  




Jun 6, 2012

The Healing Prayer

Time for another prayer.  Can there ever be enough?  

The other night I was enraged by an adult who told my child they were going to kill his dog.  I purposely did not confront this so-called adult that night because I didn't want to go all crazy mom on her.  I try to limit that to my own children or pets.  


By that evening I had planned to give her a call and simply ask her how it would make her feel if I came up to her child and told that little girl that I was going to kill her pet. I did not think she had thought her actions all the way through.  I still don't think she did.  Some people never grow up.  I feel sorry for their parents and their children equally.  My child responded in a respectful manner to her and as apparently the 14 year old was the only "adult" in the conversation. I am very proud of him for that.  "And a little child shall lead them".  Needless to say, I went to bed upset and prayed further about it.

At 1 am I received a call from one of my best friends who had been informed that she had what the Dr. thought was a malignant tumor in her lung.  


This brought everything into perspective and made all the small stuff fly right out the window of my brain.  Frankly, I found it a relief.  


In the end, I know that I cannot control anything but myself, and even that is a battle I do not always win.  I have taught my children to always be respectful of adults, whether the adults deserve it or not, and that much has stuck with them.  My mission has been accomplished.  Others' behavior is on them.  May God help them.


I spent the next day praying hard for my friend and mulling over how much we all need healing.  Whether you need physical or spiritual healing I think this prayer is good.  I hope you enjoy it.



The Healing Prayer 
By Wayne V
(New Orleans)


Lord I know that I am not worthy of you.  Thank you Jesus for dying on the cross for me and I plead the blood of Jesus for the repentance of my sins.  I ask that the blood of Jesus cleanses and heals me of any disease and sin.

I have faith and trust that it is by your stripes I am healed, by your blood I am cleansed and by your sacrificed body I am made whole. I pray for the restoration of my body, soul, mind and spirit and I ask to be forgiven of my trespasses. 

I ask that a hedge of protection be over me and pray that the blood Jesus has shed on the cross be spread over that hedge to protect me from any of the enemies' toils and snares. 

Let no weapon formed against me prosper and may the light of God shine though me that I may be given to bring deliverance, and healing to all in Jesus' name. 

God, I am your vessel please use me as you see fit. Help me to discern right from wrong, good from bad, righteousness from evilness, goodness from sin, and the virtuous from the evildoers. 

Let my faith increase and my prayers be as a beautiful melody to your ears. Thank you for saving my soul and for taking care of me. I love and honor you for you are my savior, my Lord, my God, my all in all. 

-Amen

Read more: http://www.prayers-for-special-help.com/the-healing-prayer.html#ixzz1x1x1VqTv