I remember being a child,
spending time with my Grandmother. She visited, and I stayed with her
often. Back then kids didn’t attend evening events with their parents as
frequently as we allow our kids to attend events with us, or at least in my
house that’s how I was raised. Mom and Dad had a football game to attend, I
went to Grandma’s. Mom and Dad were going to dinner, I went to
Grandma’s. I remember there was always good times to be had at Grandma’s
house. She cooked, we played games, I laid on the couch, she would watch T.V., laughing at
Johnny Carson and I would stare at a framed picture of a little girl with red
hair imagining who that girl was, what was her story. I would make up
scenarios in my mind about her life and who she was. I just remember her
being pretty and having beautiful long red hair. To this day, I don’t
know if that was just a pretty picture in her home, or a painting of someone
significant. What I did know was that my Mom was an only child, her only
sibling died at birth due to complications. I have heard the story
numerous times, and each time, sadness and anger filled both my Mother and
Grandmothers emotions. Deborah was her name. Maybe this is what Deborah
would have looked like. I am sure she would have been beautiful and I
know she would have been well loved based on how my Grandmother knew how to
love. She was a natural caregiver, hard worker, strong and independent.
My Great Grandmother lived next door to her so often I bounced between the two
homes, getting my fill of love and spoiling. One thing I also remember is
tissues, a box next to their chairs, lying beside their bedside, and balled up
inside their purses. My Mother also always had tissues handy, I remember
the pocket of her robe, her jackets, and inside her purse as well. A
tissue was never too far. As a child I thought, yuck! Why in the world
would someone have a “used” tissue in their pocket, by their chair,
in their purse? Throw it away, right? Then it happened, I became a
mother. Tissues found their rightful place in my life almost
immediately. Wiping baby noses, spit up, tears, those tissues became a
staple with little ones. As they grew out of the stages where I had to
wipe their little faces tissues no longer had a place, or did they? As my
children have aged, entered the teenage years and adulthood I have come to the
realization that those tissues in all those secret places that my Mother and
Grandmother kept stored for easy access weren’t for blowing their noses but
rather for wiping tears, their tears.
spending time with my Grandmother. She visited, and I stayed with her
often. Back then kids didn’t attend evening events with their parents as
frequently as we allow our kids to attend events with us, or at least in my
house that’s how I was raised. Mom and Dad had a football game to attend, I
went to Grandma’s. Mom and Dad were going to dinner, I went to
Grandma’s. I remember there was always good times to be had at Grandma’s
house. She cooked, we played games, I laid on the couch, she would watch T.V., laughing at
Johnny Carson and I would stare at a framed picture of a little girl with red
hair imagining who that girl was, what was her story. I would make up
scenarios in my mind about her life and who she was. I just remember her
being pretty and having beautiful long red hair. To this day, I don’t
know if that was just a pretty picture in her home, or a painting of someone
significant. What I did know was that my Mom was an only child, her only
sibling died at birth due to complications. I have heard the story
numerous times, and each time, sadness and anger filled both my Mother and
Grandmothers emotions. Deborah was her name. Maybe this is what Deborah
would have looked like. I am sure she would have been beautiful and I
know she would have been well loved based on how my Grandmother knew how to
love. She was a natural caregiver, hard worker, strong and independent.
My Great Grandmother lived next door to her so often I bounced between the two
homes, getting my fill of love and spoiling. One thing I also remember is
tissues, a box next to their chairs, lying beside their bedside, and balled up
inside their purses. My Mother also always had tissues handy, I remember
the pocket of her robe, her jackets, and inside her purse as well. A
tissue was never too far. As a child I thought, yuck! Why in the world
would someone have a “used” tissue in their pocket, by their chair,
in their purse? Throw it away, right? Then it happened, I became a
mother. Tissues found their rightful place in my life almost
immediately. Wiping baby noses, spit up, tears, those tissues became a
staple with little ones. As they grew out of the stages where I had to
wipe their little faces tissues no longer had a place, or did they? As my
children have aged, entered the teenage years and adulthood I have come to the
realization that those tissues in all those secret places that my Mother and
Grandmother kept stored for easy access weren’t for blowing their noses but
rather for wiping tears, their tears.
As I have had to let my
children go to become the men and women God intends them to be I have noticed
my tears have become plentiful. I cry out of joy, I cry out of worry, I
cry out of sadness. I have come to an age when I see beauty in things I
missed completely when I was a young mother. A baby can bring me to
tears, and an elderly person can turn them on just as easily. A song, a
message in church, a T.V. show, a call from a friend. The reunions with
my college kids, and the goodbyes. If you are a mother you have had
dreams and desires for your children, and when you see them living their dreams
and lives to the fullest, it’s emotional. Then there are the kids who are
lost, not where they need to be, captive to their own sins, suffering and your
tears fall when you cry out to the Lord for their lives to be restored.
My tears are welcome and understood by the Lord, He too wept. John 11:35
says “Jesus wept.” This was after he was told of Mary and Martha’s
brother Lazarus’ death and upon him seeing the woman and his Jewish friends
weeping over the loss of him. He wept with His believers, He was deeply
moved by their sadness (v. 33 & 38). Jesus was filled with sorrow and
anguish as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane over His pending death (Mathew
26:38, Mark 14: 34, Luke 22:44). All throughout scripture there are
references of people crying out in joy, anguish, fear, distress, cries of
concern, fervent cries for the Lord to hear their petitions.
children go to become the men and women God intends them to be I have noticed
my tears have become plentiful. I cry out of joy, I cry out of worry, I
cry out of sadness. I have come to an age when I see beauty in things I
missed completely when I was a young mother. A baby can bring me to
tears, and an elderly person can turn them on just as easily. A song, a
message in church, a T.V. show, a call from a friend. The reunions with
my college kids, and the goodbyes. If you are a mother you have had
dreams and desires for your children, and when you see them living their dreams
and lives to the fullest, it’s emotional. Then there are the kids who are
lost, not where they need to be, captive to their own sins, suffering and your
tears fall when you cry out to the Lord for their lives to be restored.
My tears are welcome and understood by the Lord, He too wept. John 11:35
says “Jesus wept.” This was after he was told of Mary and Martha’s
brother Lazarus’ death and upon him seeing the woman and his Jewish friends
weeping over the loss of him. He wept with His believers, He was deeply
moved by their sadness (v. 33 & 38). Jesus was filled with sorrow and
anguish as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane over His pending death (Mathew
26:38, Mark 14: 34, Luke 22:44). All throughout scripture there are
references of people crying out in joy, anguish, fear, distress, cries of
concern, fervent cries for the Lord to hear their petitions.
He hears us, he sees us as
we pull our tissues out and wipe our eyes.
we pull our tissues out and wipe our eyes.
Psalm 56:8 tells us;
You keep track of all my
sorrows.[a]
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
I will proudly carry my tissues
for the next generation to see that tears, cries to the Lord are acceptable and
needed as we navigate the seasons of Motherhood. He created us to be emotional,
loving, caring women and He wants us to cry out to Him in all things. So, grab
some tissues, share them with another mother who may be needing them. Weep with
her, celebrate with her, pray with her, wipe her tears, wipe your own, you are
not alone.
Until next time,Courtney