Wildflower Writes

When my sister and I were deciding where to spend the Sunday morning before Christmas, she suggested Grace Community Church in Goshen. I said as long as there were lights and Christmas music, I'd be happy. I was not disappointed. The main sanctuary was beautifully decorated for the season. And even though the music was worshipful and engaging, the message is what hit home. The speaker admonished us not to take the miracle of the season for granted, and took us into the perspective of Mary, a young peasant girl in a small town with simple expectations from life: marry, have a family, keep a household. Then an angel comes a-knockin'. Imagine the mixture of excitement, wonder, and trepidation upon seeing an angel, hearing that she was favored by God, and that she would be pregnant... by the Holy Spirit. Of course God chose the best mom for Jesus. Of course she was spiritually strong and faithful. Yet, she was still human. Imagine Mary trying to explain the situation to her ...

Continued from 6/19 post… Wendy opened the bathroom door and brushed past her mother. She found a granola bar in the kitchen and stuffed it in her purse. She even found an old Gideon New Testament she had been given in elementary school. She gave her mom a light kiss on the cheek and headed outside. The air was hot and muggy, even this early in the morning. She decided to walk. She hadn’t been in a church building since Christmas. She was starting to second-guess her brilliant plan to win God’s favor so He would grant her wish. Yet, her sandaled feel kept moving forward down the sidewalk, and the steeple seemed to grow taller and taller. It sure was pretty in the morning light. Suddenly she turned. She could have sworn she heard someone calling her name. It was coming from the parking lot of the church. Someone was waving at her. “Wendy!” he called again, as he began to run toward her. She finally recognized her greeter. It was Jason from the hospital, looking quite ha...

Sometimes I worry about what kind of mom I am. I don’t spend inordinate amounts of time with my children. Sometimes I yell at them. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t about people or situations that frustrate me. Sometimes I forget to keep up with their papers, projects, and events from school and activities. Sometimes I shut myself up in my room for some alone time. When it comes down to it, I am largely responsible, along with my husband, for the kind of people my children become. By helping support their interests and abilities as they grow, we give them tools to become what they are created to be. By instructing and disciplining, we teach them what is and is not appropriate in the social arena. It’s more than turning my children into responsible citizens, however. Whether I like it or not, their view of the world is colored by their interaction with me. When I show them affection, they feel how great it is to be loved. When I laugh with them, they learn how to find joy. ...

I don’t remember making a big deal out of Mother’s Day as I child. I think we all went out to eat after church. At least that would make sense to me since Mom always cooked, but I can’t imagine either of my parents waiting for an hour for a meal at a crowded restaurant. I’m sure there were a string of homemade cards with the accompanying homemade verse. There might have been breakfast in bed a time or two, although Mom always seemed to be up before us. I imagine there may have been some offerings of wadded violets or dandelions as well. In my husband’s family, all the ladies wear orchids to church on Mother’s Day. I felt a little silly the first time, sporting one as a very unmotherly college student, but I felt a little special, too. On Mother’s Day, my home church gives out carnations to all the women. I thought it was merely an inexpensive choice, but it turns out carnations are traditional representations of Mother’s Day. It was the favorite flower of Ann Marie Jarvis, whose passin...

What does the ideal mom look like? Is it June Cleaver, wearing pearls while she vacuums and having dinner ready when dad walks in the door? Is it Lucy Ricardo, devoted mother still looking for her next big break on stage or screen, or at least a good adventure? Is it Roseanne Connor, keeping her kids in line with sharp remarks and always speaking her mind? Is it Abby O’Neil, the vegan, homeschooling, all-natural mom from Dharma & Greg who walks around in overalls and burns incense? Is it Reba Hart, a single working mom dealing with her teenage daughter’s pregnancy and her ex-husband’s new wife? Every mom has to decide for herself what motherhood is going to look like. For most people, no one is going to be harder on mom than she is on herself. As times change, society’s expectations of the role of mother change and evolve with them. I don’t know if there is any other time in history that has so many potential expectations of motherhood. Moms are supposed to be totally devoted t...