Confirmations of Success

Over my 11 years of nursing I have gotten to meet an array of people.  As a case manager I helped numerous patients well under poverty level, and I have sat in a few meetings with people who have way too much money.  Well maybe not too much, but more than I could imagine to be enough.  It is this factor that separates them and makes them different.  Sometimes I walk past an average Joe off the street and imagine him as the wealthiest man alive, and I look a mega-billionaire on TV and wonder how they would look if they had to live off of a meager minimum wage salary. One of my favorite things in my nursery rotation was to look at all of the babies in the bassinets.  They all lay there in their identical white hospital shirts, wrapped in the exact same hospital blanket.  Nothing separating them…all equal.  What would they grow up to be? What homes would they go to?  What advantages and disadvantages would they face? How would they be shaped and what would determine their success?

I used to tell people given the right circumstances I could have been so much more. More what? I don’t know.  At one point in my life (and not even that long ago) more would have been more money.  But being more to me now encompasses so many things.  I look around at people around me daily…This is something I love to do. I love to watch people, analyze them, and sadly yes…even at times label them.  I know it’s wrong! But it’s the truth and I don’t care too much for writing or saying anything that is not genuine and helpful.  What I have noticed is that everyone is looking for something to fulfill them and confirm that they are on the "right track"…confirmation that they have succeeded.  This is why poor people who “make it” buy nice things and fat kids who lose weight love 10 year reunions. Why parents love successful children.  We are all looking for confirmation and approval…our place in the world.  

I sat at my desk eagerly awaiting  the class valentine party. Our teacher told us the homeroom mom should be here anytime so we should sit and do a quiet activity while we waited.  I looked across the room at my friend; in 2^nd grade everyone is still your friend.  She was dressed in all pink and red with a big bow to match!  She had on the whitest pair of keds tennis shoes that have ever existed (as I mom I appreciate the care that must have went into those shoes…it was no small task).  Not a hair on her head was out of place.  She was so dainty and delicate.  I always dreamed of living her life…that I would go to bed one night in my bed and wake up in hers. At that moment her mom walked in the classroom carrying a gigantic chocolate chip cookie with red and pink writing on it…”Happy Valentine’s Day”.  She was so beautiful!  She had on a perfect outfit and the most beautiful jewelry.  My favorite was the gold bracelet that dangled from her wrist.  I imagined her in a big fancy house getting her daughter and herself ready that morning.  I bet they had pancakes and orange juice.  I wonder if they have one of those fancy tubs with feet on it, like in the movies.  I wish I was her and that was my mom.  I wanted my mom to dress me in pretty clothes, not the hand me downs from my cousin (who was a boy).  He was much older than me, but luckily enough I was just chubby enough that it worked out perfectly.  She was and had had everything that I lacked.  

As a little girl you could not have convinced me that this pair had a problem in the world.  She would go home after the party with her beautiful mom in their fancy car to their mansion and live happily ever after…because that is happiness, right?  All the fancy things are what made people happy.  After all they were the only differences.  I mean we both had parents, and homes, we went to the same school…the only difference was money…yes money that is what made people happy.  I rode the bus home that afternoon praying that I had not done anything to set my mom off that day and hopeful my dad had not either.  I had packed my clothes and sat through the, “We are getting a divorce” speech so many times that I was numb to any emotion that should accompany it .  I could pack and unpack my things in record time.  It was kind of a game at this point.  My mother was detailed with the reasons (to detailed in my opinion), “Your dad loves his girlfriend more than us.  Your dad has decided he wants to be single and not worried with us anymore.” And on and on.  My stomach was always in knots on the bus and I cringed when I walked in the door and could tell she was ready for a fight.  My mom was always ready for a fight with someone; if not my dad or us; it would be with my aunt of one her of “best friends”.    I have never understood her constant state of anger or why she insisted on having conflict at all times.  I remember her being very judgmental and pushy with people.  It was “her way or the highway”. 

Just be quiet and go to your room.  But it didn’t help…the screaming began and someone was gonna get it.  Life was so uncertain, but the funny thing was, in my mind the reason my life was so bad was not the drugs or the alcohol, or the parties, or the fights, or the abuse…it was because we were poor.  I thought to be a “happy family” one needed to have the fancy car, the mansion, the pretty outfits, and the keds…one must have the splendorous gleaming white keds! I’m telling you guys these shoes…you would have had to see them to appreciate them. Dirt fell. Off. Of. Them! Magic.

They wheel my little bundle of joy in. She is in her white hospital shirt and wrapped in her hospital blanket.  I feel the determination to give this child “THE PERFECT LIFE”…I have a beautiful little pair of newborn size white leather keds at home.  I think most people would agree that I am above average intelligence (at least average).  You would think that it would not be hard for me to figure out the simple fact that happiness has nothing to do with money. Welp, when you are 22 with limited knowledge of what a “happy healthy family” is you go with what you know; which just happened to be the fact that everyone I knew who had a happy childhood had money too.  I had not had a happy childhood and did not have money.  You can see how this is pretty reasonable right? So the pursuit of “happiness” began.  

Now don’t get me wrong I am all about goals and having nice things (that you can afford), but what I have come to understand over the years is that searching for happiness outside of yourself…in things around you is pointless.  Take it from someone who knows.  It always feels like we are a step behind.  I wish we could just get above water and stay there.  I was always paying something late, and it was stressing me out badly.  Yet still I bought Hannah the new outfit or the new pair of shoes.  It doesn’t matter what I have to sacrifice she will have the life she deserves! I mean our children deserve 16 pairs of pants, they deserve 20 shirts and a new laptop, and the latest iPhone, and 2 gaming stations with all the accessories. What child can survive without an iPad.  I mean these things are the future.  If my child doesn’t have their own ipad and know how the operating system works by age 4 I might as well buy the McDonald’s uniform myself! Panic sets in.  If my child does not succeed it is my fault…I should have been able to provide more.  More? More things?  Yes more.  I mean look at me…if I had a pretty pink outfit with bow and gleaming white keds I may have won the Nobe Peace Prize by this point in my life!   I may have been a huge success.

Hannah is sitting in the middle of the living room floor.  She is 4 and it is Christmas morning.  She is excited to begin opening her gifts.  She rips through the first ten and squeals with happiness at each new gift; especially the ones Santa brought her.  She had originally asked for $12.98 worth of toys.  I thought it was sweet, but I was giving her the Christmas she deserved! So I bought and I bought…and I bought.  You could barely see her little body as the torn paper and empty boxes mounded around her.  She was almost half way done opening her Christmas. She opened the last box within her sight and said, “Thank you”, with a sweet little smile.  Hannah is and has always been a very grateful and polite little girl.  She starts to get up as I am reaching for another gift.  She looks over her shoulder, turns back to me, and says, “There’s more?” with a look of exhaustion.  It was clear to me and as I looked up to James I could tell it was clear to him…I had overdone it.  I just wanted it to be perfect.  I wanted her to have everything she had dreamed of.  The truth of the matter was everything she had dreamed of was $12.98.  Everything I had dreamed us surrounded us in the living room that morning.

That Christmas morning was the beginning of a very imperfect journey I would begin to have as a Christian woman, wife, and mother. One in which I would and still struggle with and stumble daily. It was very apparent to me that morning that something was wrong.  At this point it was hazy, but I knew that I needed to change my heart in some way.  Although everything I did was out of love for Hannah and James it was still from an unhealthy place.   I would do these kind things and go so overboard, but the outcome would never match the feeling I had imagined in my head.  Suddenly the perfect Christmas I had dreamed up was not so perfect.  It didn’t make sense.  It confused me.  It was all there…the nice house, the cute clothes, all the gifts, the pancakes and orange juice for breakfast…the keds!! Why did I not feel like it was perfect?

We recently started a bible study and within the first few lessons we covered the Sermon on the Mount.  Man this was eye opening for me.  In this sermon many important things are covered, but what God needed me to hear was that there are a million things outside of you in this life that promise happiness.  You can obsess over money, your looks, you status, even your relationships.  There are many things that promise happiness, but at the end of the day until you stop and realize that true happiness and serenity are internal you will forever search for that peace and you will forever come up empty handed.  I think sometimes that back when I was younger internal happiness would not have been possible because God truly didn’t live there.  I had so much hate and anger that it was impossible for him to occupy space in my heart.  Even though I went through the motions of being a Godly person...a "good person" to those around me...my heart was empty without God at the center of it.  It tainted everything I tried to accomplish.

The following scriptures changed my life, and I hope they find you in a place where they can change yours.  There comes a point in life when you surrender to him.  You accept that he is strong and you are weak.  He is smart and you are ignorant.  He is all knowing and you are lost without his guidance.  You stop focusing on everything around you that does not matter. You do the needed work, you change your heart, you give it to him, and then your whole world changes…then you no longer need a pair of sparkling white keds.  You realize all the riches and all your happiness come from your relationship with God.  And when you finally give up and loosen your grip on this life; surrendering to him the weight of this world will be lifted. When you make peace on the inside everything on the outside falls into place. And that is confirmation of success. 

 

Matthew 5:3-12

New International Version (NIV)

³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
⁵ Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

¹¹ “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. ¹² Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

My Daily Prayer is that I desire God and his purpose more than I desire the things of this world and the false promise of their happiness...

Grandma Jettie

My grandma Jettie was my moms mother. My grandma was a precious woman who loved God very much, but she wasn't about dealing with people's BS either. LOL! She was a straight talking no nonsense kinda woman. She raised me in a small country church that was nondenominational. She always told me, "Jodie, when we get to heaven there's not gonna be a sign that says 'Baptist this way... Pentecostal this way... All that mess was somethin' made up by man. You see man has to have things his way, but it's not got nothin to do with him. Serving God is about lovin' God...Not lovin' yourself." Oh and love him she did.

I'm laying in front of my grandma's huge console TV. There's an air conditioner vent right in front of it... It feels so good to let the cold air blow on my cheek. I sit up and feel my cheek... It feels like squishy ice against my hand. Andy Griffith comes on the TV. The familiar tune hits my ears and I am instantly happy. I feel so peaceful and calm. Grandma's house is my favorite place on Earth. I have my thumb in my mouth and my pillowcase in the other hand...rubbing it against my cold cheek. Grandma is the only one who doesn't yell at me for either offense. She has a whole big drawer of pillow cases. As soon as mom leaves I get to go to her room and have my pick. I open the drawer and they smell just like her. Delightful! I instantly plan to sneak one home under my shirt when I have to go back.
We finish watching Andy Griffith and grandma gets up to cook. I follow her into the kitchen of the built on single wide trailer. She picks me up and sits me between the fridge and stove. "Grandma tell me a story about the river!" She laughs and I see her tiny worn down teeth. She's so beautiful to me. "What cha wanna her Hun?" I think about it...Anything would be good. I love her stories. The one about her sitting on a log that turned out to be a gigantic turtle or the one where her brother found a fish scale the size of his hand or the ghost cat! Oh I loved them all equally. She starts telling me one of her tales as she mixes up the batter for her cat head biscuits. I can't wait to eat one piping hot from the toaster oven with real butter! This is life at its best for me as a little girl.

I pop the last bite of the enormous biscuit in my mouth and we head to her living room. I grab my pillow case and lay on her soft tan/brown couch with a print I can't quite recall. She starts singing hymns. I close my eyes and listen to her words of praise and love to our God. Her tears start to flow as she prays out loud. I look at her with her hands stretched high toward heaven and the tears streaming down her face. I'm amazed and I bow my little head to do just as she does.

She dries me off with a towel that smells just like her pillowcase. They smell like love, like warmth, calmness, and comfort. She puts my panties and t-shirt on. We climb into her big squeaky bed. "Ok Hun. You want me to start?" She says. "Yes mam" I say back sleepy and content.
She starts..."Our Father, which art in heaven..." My little voice joins in unison..
"Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
As it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive them that trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
The power, and the glory,
For ever and ever.
Amen."
"Good night baby she yawns. Sleep tight. I love you." Oh and I did...
In loving memory of Grandma Jettie. She was taken too soon, but I thank God for the time I did have her. She is without a doubt the reason I am the woman, wife, and mother I am today.

She wants to be Just Like Me. I Better Make it Good!

My stomach hurts because I didn’t eat.  You know you should have eaten. There was no way you were getting any food in today. It’s been an emotional day.  Whew…I can’t believe I am sitting her with all these young kids.  Man I wish I could have done this right out of High School. Well you made it through nursing school despite the odds…don’t get down on yourself! Not tonight.  Not the night when you finally do it…you finally graduate from college! 

School was not always easy for me.  As you all know I am not social and was a bit of an outcast in school. But school itself was super simple.  I read very well and love to write.  I always struggled in math but easily maintained high Bs in there as well.  I guess when life is not so great it is even easier to lose yourself in books.  When I was a little girl it meant something to me to have a college degree.  People who had been to college were somebody.  The college graduates I knew came from families who had graduated college before them and it was an expected part of life.  My parents were always very proud of my grades.  It was a place in my life I felt comfortable. I felt on an “equal playing ground (and sometimes even better than my peers) in this arena of life.  So I was always sure of one thing, when I graduate high school I will go to college. 

I met James my September of my senior year.  I explained to him that he didn’t need to date me because I was moving far away from here and going to college away from all of “this”.  All of the family that I felt didn’t care, all of the drama that surrounded my family and my parent’s friends. I wanted to forget who I was, move away, and start a new life.  I remember he told me he would wait for me to graduate college before we go serious. (Ha! We all know that God had other plans…Thank you God).  James and I got engaged and we married that October.  I started to SEARK for summer classes and then JSN the following fall.  Nursing school was hard.  It was harder trying to go to school and care for my mother who was dying of cancer.  She entered Hospice during my critical care rotation and passed away during my leadership course.  I wanted to quit so bad.  I was emotionally and physically exhausted.  But Sue Tedford wouldn’t allow it.  Just another angel God placed in my path.  She told me, “Jodie.  Don’t give up.  Not now.  I know you can do this.  We can do this.  You are almost there.”  I hung in there and walked across that stage. I had received my diploma to become an RN at the age of 20. 

James and I were so excited. I remember living in our tiny apartment.  We looked up the results on the web page using dial up internet…the kind that squealed really loud when you logged on and it made you phone line busy. LOL It popped up “PASSED”.  I almost fainted. James had worked 2 and 3 jobs to put me through nursing school.  I wanted so badly to give him something back.  I tell him he is an honorary nurse.  They should have put his name on my license with mine.  There are many instances I would have given up had he not been there to encourage me and push me on when all my strength was gone.  

We moved on with life and of course had Hannah.  We faced many obstacles and setbacks, but we always kept our eyes on the prize.  We were on a mission making to better ourselves and Hannah’s live.  Making stupid decisions that were setbacks.  Gotta love those life lessons that can only be learned through experience…you know right AFTER you need them. But we did it.  It was always in the back of my mind that I wanted to get my college degree.  I knew that I was smart and deserved the chance to show it.  I deserved the chance to prove it to myself. 

So as God would have it he brought me to the moment when that decision would be made.  I took a new job in Informatics and was hired into my current position.  It was time.  It was time to get my college degree.  It had been many years since the dream was there, so I started slow back at SEARK.  I took classes that were needed to start the RN-BSN program at UALR.  The classes were more of any annoyance at first.  I was a wife and mom…so this took second place on my priority list.  I completed my first semester…all As.  Wow. It felt good.  It felt good to learn new things and remember old things.  I walked into Hannah’s room one night and sat on the end of her bed as she slept.  I watched her breath in and out.  I thought of all the things I wanted for her so badly in this world.  I saw her graduating for high school, the two of us going shopping for dorm furniture, and dropping her off at college.  I saw myself crying like a big ole baby and poor James having to deal with all of it. I saw her graduating college and having a career that she loves…one that fulfilled her.  I saw her getting married…all the things that would make her life rich and bring her happiness.  After all her happiness is such a big part of my happiness. 

I know Hannah may choose a different path, and that will be okay too, but I wanted to have done all I could to build a sturdy runway for her to take flight from.  For me having my own college degree was a huge part of this.  I wanted to show her that dreams are simply goals in our minds that are achievable.  I wanted her to know that she is capable of anything.  I want her to see that if her mom could overcome so much to reach her own goals… Hannah could conquer this world! I’m sure she will in her own way and I can’t wait to see it.

I started at UALR very nervous.  I had to go to campus to get signed up officially and take care of some business.  I looked around me and saw all these really cool kids walking around in faded jeans, hoodies, toms, backpacks, and smartphones.  Many of them walking in groups laughing and chatting…the whole world at their feet.  Just look down and get to this building.  Where the heck is this building? The lady said walk toward the library…just walk.  Oh my you don’t belong here. You are a 30 year old mother.  You look ridiculous.  All you have to do is get this paperwork done and the rest is online…just walk.  Once day Hannah will be here.  You will be here with her.  Helping her get settled in her dorm.  That will be so much fun.  You will belong here then.  You can tell her all about college schedules and hours needed.  You will know because you did this yourself.  Just walk.

Just walk…the announcer calls my name. “Jodie Howell”.  Just don’t fall Jodie. Get the dang degree and sit back down.  I walk across the stage to applause.  I already have Hannah picked out in the crowd.  Her dad got her a front row seat.  I look up and see her excited little face.  She is clapping like a maniac and yelling my name.  I hold the degree up in the air high in her direction; I grab my heart, and blow her a kiss. The tears take over and my eyes are blurry but I don’t care! I look right in front of me and there he is…there he always is…my love. He has the camera. He looks so proud.  I love this man so much.  I blow him a kiss.  We did it! We really did it James.  All those nights of studying and missing out on everything with Hannah have paid off.  All those years of making the right decisions and always having a “game plan”…we are here.  Wow.  Just keep walking.  I get back to my seat and the young college girl beside me says, “Are you okay?” and I tell her yes.  I assure that this has been a long awaited moment and then I point out my beautiful little blue eyed daughter to her.  I say, “That little girl is very glad to have her mom back.”  I think to myself that I have a lot of time to make up with her that have been missed the past couple of years, but of all the sacrifice…what was gained tonight is priceless.   

I’m finally done with the ceremony and greeted by my beautiful family. As I round the corner and see them my heart sinks and the tears start up again.  I say a quick silent prayer for these people he has put in my life…knowing that each of them love me so much and have in some way encouraged me and helped me get her too.  I thank him for every step that I have walked in this life, and I just keep walking right into their loving arms. 

Hannah! Where are you?...Mom. I’m right here.

To say I am an overprotective mom would make those closest to me laugh and laugh.  I am beyond an overprotective mom.  I am a sack of frayed nerves, chewed up lips, and a few tears mom.  I remember the day they handed Hannah to me.  I’m sure all moms can relate to that moment.  She was so beautiful, so perfect, so SMALL, SO FRAGILE…oh my!  Okay calm down Jodie.  You’ve got this. You are going to be a great mom.  You know exactly what not to do. Chuckles to self..okay seriously. This tiny little girl is going to depend on you for everything.  What. Have. You. Done? Deep breath.  Thank goodness for the remaining medication in my system from the general anesthetic.  LOL.  James takes her from me.  I watch him staring at her and proudly showing her to all our family. I love this man so much… I can here everyone laughing and see their smiles, “Way to go mom! You did so good.” I smiled as best I could through the drug haze. Delivery wasn’t so easy for me…that is a whole different blog post. 

I drifted off into a semi-sleep state, and as they always do when I sleep, the nightmares start the memories are vivid…I was scared. It was dark.  I wanted to be at home, but I knew I couldn’t be.  Pretend to be asleep.  Pretend to be asleep.  It didn’t work. It never did.  My abuser was there and there was no stopping the inevitable. There was no way to protect myself and there was no one there to protect me.  Dear God it’s me, Jodie, I want to say I love you and thank you for Jesus.  Please let me go home and go to sleep for real. Please make this stop.  Please help me tell my mom. Please help me be a good girl.  Amen.  Then I go to where I am happy…I go to the place where I have a happy home where my mom and dad aren’t drunk and high.  I go to a place where there is not a party every night with strange people in my house.  I go to a place where I have cute clothes like the other little girls, and my parents are in the audience as I perform at my piano recital. There are cookies baking and its quiet…very quiet.  No shouting and yelling.  No loud music. Its perfection. It’s the life I know today as a mom and wife.

I wake up! I feel my belly. Hannah is not there. Where am I? “James!” I croak out anxiously.  “I’m right here honey”, he says in that deep calm voice that settles me to my core.  “Are you hurting?” he says with concern in his voice.  Always so concerned about me. We’ve been married for a while now and I still don’t fully understand that sincerity.  I like it and I depend on it daily, but I still don’t believe it. Many people have pretended to love me in the past, but most of those situations were very conditional and only lasted through whatever situation it was that benefited them.  I remember confiding in one of my mom’s closest friends one night.  I felt so good to have someone to talk to.  I remember thanking God for sending me someone to talk to, something I had never had.  That feeling was quickly replaced with dread and fear as my mother confronted me about all the lies I told this person.  I was adequately reminded to keep my mouth shut about her and my dad.  The fear was instilled and I became quiet for a very long time. But James is different.  He keeps all my secrets.  He doesn’t care if I have nothing to give him or everything.  He keeps loving me…even when I really don’t deserve it.  “Baby…if you are hurting push that button ok.” He touches my arm.  “Where is the baby?” I ask.  “She is right here.  You want to hold her?” I do. I want to look at her now that I am more awake and less nauseated.  Thank goodness. He hands her to me and she is wide awake.  I look into her huge blues eyes.  She makes her little mouth into the shape of an “o” and yawns; sticking her little wet tongue out.  “I should feed her again, huh?”  I looked up at James (as if he knows anymore than me). “Sure” he says so confident. He read a lot of books before we had her. LOL.  She latches on and her cheeks suck in and out.  Oh my.  I am amazed.  I look at her mesmerized, in love with her, nervous that I am not adequate to be the mom she needs.  Despite all of the horrible things I’ve just written. I momentarily miss my mom. I wish I had someone to be here, not “someone”…I wish I had a mom here to look at me proudly and assure me I am doing this right. So I pray and God comforts me.  He reminds me I have James, and that is more than enough.

Those first moments of having Hannah were the most beautiful of my life.  They were also the most difficult emotionally.  I had tried to years to deal with the emotional aftermath of my abuse, but I don’t really understand how or if one recovers from such things completely.  I know that God can heal anything both physically and spiritually.  I know that daily I would go to him in prayer not even sure what I was asking for most days, and he somehow gave me exactly what I needed to bring me to this moment where I type these words. But, I had only dealt with my abuse as a child…not a mom.  I have to admit becoming a mom to this beautiful little girl made me even angrier with my mother.  It made me wonder why she didn’t love me the way I instantly loved Hannah.  I wondered why no one had to desire to protect the little blonde haired blue eyed girl that so obviously suffered right before them.  There were so many people who could have stepped in. So many people who did protect their children, but left us to be victimized. ANGER is what I felt.  Deep dark anger.  The period after Hannah was born was a constant struggle.  It was a struggle to see through the anger to the beauty of what my life was in the present moments.  I focused so hard on James and our baby and this wonderful life we had built. 

Being this one time victim had made me a very “overprotective” mother in deed.  I would never let anything happen to this baby girl.  Her life would be filled with wonderful healthy happy thoughts and memories… no darkness. I knew without a doubt that it was my responsibility…no my purpose in life to protect her.  Hannah is 9 now.  Protecting an infant from the world is one thing, but protecting a growing pre-teen is a whole new ball game.  “Hannah!” Oh my God…where is she? Someone took her! I feel a light tough at my hand, but I can’t focus…I have lost her.  There are people everyone in this tiny town on the boardwalk of Myrtle Beach.  Do I run out the door? Some man grabbed her and hit the door. I know it! I see her crying and I panic. I didn’t protect her! I have failed. Oh God please..“James…where is Hannah. I lost…” panic clear in my voice. “Mom!” I hear a little voice…It’s my little voice.  I look down to Hannah’s laughing eyes.  She picks up my hand which is clasped to hers.  “Mom you are so silly. I am right here!”  My face turns pink.  I let out a nervous giggle.  James is looking at me like I am a maniac.  I swallow the nervous nausea at the base of my neck.  I squeeze her little hand and say, “Sorry kiddo I have a lot of bags in my hand, a-a-and my phone. I thought I was holding my phone in my hand.” She looks back up and smiles, “It’s okay mom. I’m not going to walk away from you. I’m right here, promise.”  I smile back and thank God he gave me such a precious baby who doesn’t mind I’m a little on the nervous side when it comes to her.  When we get out of the car at any store she immediately grabs my hand.  Each time she does this…I know and she knows that she holds my hand for my sake…not hers. 

 

Hannah Spring Piano Recital 2009

Myrtle Beach Vacation 2010

Seeing things from a Forgiving Perspective

Growing up in a small town where everyone knew everyone was not easy; especially when you are not wealthy, connected, or have parents who want to be involved in the community in any way. People don’t just know each other’s names…they know everything. Most of the people in White Hall grow up together, graduate together, and then settle down and raise another generation in this town. So when I say they know everything…I mean EVERYTHING. All the embarrassing details of family scandals past and present. All of the ugly mistakes made in the very difficult teenage years that most want to forget. Who is succeeding ans who is ailing according to the life rubric created by the towns most impressive people (the ones with money).

There was a time when I was young that I hated “White Hall”. I m not sure what that meant…I hated the town. I think I hated the cycle that I saw and how it negatively impacted me. I was never enrolled in any extracurricular activates other than a couple years of pee-wee football. During that time I was constantly reminded how it was a waste of time because you had to “know somebody” to succeed at anything in this town. I don’t think I realized the extent of poor parenting that was to blame. Anyway, so this perception is only compounded by the ugly parents and teachers that I encountered during the emotional storm I called my childhood.

There were the “nice moms” at school who told their daughters to be kind to me, but that I was not to be a “best friend”, then there were the ones who gossiped in front of their daughters about “who I was”…trash is probably the word used by some (mean moms). Being told that someone can’t be your friend on the playground because, “My mom said your parents drink and take drugs” was humiliating and devastating. I held a lot of anger at one mother in particular for many years. She probably inflicted the most unnecessary hurt on me because she was a “Christian” and didn’t want her children to be influenced by me. Influenced by an elementary age child? Hmmm. Well, you get my point. This was all very dreadful. Add the fact that I was chubby and shy on top of that and you have yourself a good picture painted. So this is all really sad and disheartening Jodie…why would you post such a thing to Face book. Well when I say I held anger I mean a big ole grudge! One that reminded me of my childhood sorrows and one that made me delight in the very rocky road that mother’s children experienced as teenagers. That is not the kind of feelings you want to have in your heart…ever. It is never okay to feel such anger and resentment toward a brother or sister in Christ.

Enter Solution…Hannah was born. Hannah got old enough to go to school…I started to understand what it meant to be a concerned mom. I saw this situation through a whole new, suddenly very understanding, set of eyes. As moms we are terrified for our children. We are working with everything we have to set them on a good path and keep everyone and everything from detouring that path to greatness! I caught myself one day when Hannah was telling me a dreadful story about a child in her class, where there were obvious emotional issues from the home setting, being the “nice mom”. Hannah you be very kind to everyone including this little girl, but… PAUSE. But what? Don’t be her “best friend”. STING! In that moment a swell of anger and resentment released. I said a silent prayer…God forgive me for the awful feelings I had toward those mothers (even the mean ones). Thank you for this new perspective. Help me to be the Christian woman and mother you would have me to be. I asked Hannah if she wanted to pray for the little girl, and I explained that not everyone has the home she has. I reminded her that she needs to be thankful for her blessings and try to be a good witness while at school. As she has grown we continue to come across similar situations.

I would like to say I have never advised her against a friendship, but that would be a lie. I have. Just like all other moms I want what is best for Hannah, but we do try and pray for those children and I try to always be an encouragement to them. I also teach Hannah of the importance of witnessing to her friends. For I remember very clearly the moms and daughters who witnessed to me through their kindness.