Skip to main content

The Mother Load

For the third time in three weeks an ambulance showed up at my neighbor's home across the street. The other two times my neighbor was mysteriously taken to the hospital. But Sunday night the EMT called the police. It seems the woman was having a nervous breakdown and was very paranoid. The police made it clear she could go with or without handcuffs. All of her children were there watching. From my backyard I could hear my neighbor in her home screaming. It was a horrible sound.

In an instant the screams of my neighbor took me back to the screams of my childhood. With amazing clarity I recalled Jon Jones arriving very early one morning at my home. Then the police came with a court order to put my mom in the mental hospital. She physically resisted and eventually I saw my mom handcuffed and taken away screaming. I remember how scared she looked. I knew I needed to take care of Jeana, Joel, and Jana. I hoped this time would be different and my mommy would come home fixed. For just a few moments this last Sunday night I became that young girl watching her mother taken away in handcuffs while her daddy wept and keep asking all of us if he had done the right thing.

Snap! Katie Beth walked into the backyard and asked me a question. I stopped being that scared little girl and became her mom. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Then I began praying silently. I am so thankful for God's faithfulness in my life. So many of the plans the enemy had for my family have been defeated. In the last 6 years he has restored my mother's mental health. This has allowed us to have a warm loving relationship. God has revealed her true nature by allowing me to watch her tenderly interact with her grandaughter. She has spoken words of blessing to replace the lies the enemy spoke though her. And this early experience taught me to depend on Him alone. He has and is and will sustain me.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Where I am from.......310, 512, 915, 903, 214, 917, 815

I got a confirmation e-mail for my daughter's session to Horse Camp in Dallas. I looked through it and noticed the contact number is a 512 area code. That's Austin, I thought to myself. Must be her cell. When we moved from Dallas to Fort Worth I did not change my cell number. In fact the area codes listed in the title are friends of mine who no longer live in that area code but kept their number. We keep our numbers due to contractual obligations. Or we keep it to remain connected to our contacts. And of course convenience plays into this as well. It occurred to me that these 3 digits are part of our story. They tell where we are from. As a life coach I often hear the following. "These people knew me at this stage of my life but that is not me anymore. I have changed. I am afraid to reconnect with them. I hope they do not see me how I was." Their fear seems to stem from a moral failure,a dissolved marriage or the perception of unmet potential. The basic question is ...

Something Borrowed for Someone Blue

Wednesday mornings are sacred. I drive to a church in Argyle to meet with a group of ladies none of which I have much in common with on the surface. There is a bold grandmother whose husband is battling cancer, a sassy single mom of two girls, a spunky newlywed who has 9 children, a feisty single professional working with a start-up company offering mortgages specifically tailored for public servants, a generous grandmother whose husband is a non believer, a kind mom battling very painful physical ailments and a beautiful mom of two and ministry leader. We are supposed to be studying a book called Nurture by Lisa Bevere . Somewhere along the path we stopped studying nurture and became nurture. The allotted time has shifted. We share each other's lives more and discuss the latest chapter of the book less. I think Lisa would be proud because we are living out what she has written about. “Women –daughters and mothers- of all ages need to awaken and recover their capacity to nurture ju...

Here's A Quarter

When Brad and I were first dating we had a conversation about money that we have referred back to many times. I was teaching kindergarten at the time and sharing my frustration about teaching the value of twenty-five cents. He pulls a coin out of his pocket and said,"Deana just hand them a quarter." I thanked him for the solution, pocketed the newly aquired quarter, rolled my eyes dramatically and said, "or 25 pennies, two dimes, and a nickel, fifteen pennies and a dime, there are many correct answers to this one question!" He grinned and playfully said, "I guess there is more to it than just a quarter. I'm glad I'm not the Kindergarten Teacher." To this day when we face a challenge and are getting frustrated during our brainstorming Brad will pop out the word, "Quarter" several times in a row and we will laugh. "Quarter,quarter" is an instant reminder that life's questions can have more than one right answer. Recently I hav...