Author: marycatherinethomas

M. Catherine Thomas is a published writer, speaker and teacher. Mother of two and grandmother..

Tearful Good-byes

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I grew up with no grandparents alive. I didn’t realize the impact grandchildren have on your heart.

When our Little Man visits, we scheme to hide away so we can stay together. Unfortunately his parents have caught on to our plan. Tears run down my cheek as they leave the driveway. It happens every time.

When we visit Little Miss we do the leaving and although tears freely fall, I get distracted almost immediately as we travel down the interstate.

The past couple of weeks we have spent time with Little Miss and her family. I have had time with her that I didn’t have to share with her Grampy. This afternoon we did the final touches inside the lake house. Dale and my son-in-law are still working on projects outside.

Little Miss and her Mom just left. As I hugged her good-bye, she pleaded with me to go back home with her. She then continued to let me know how much she will miss me. As I sit alone in the finished living room here, my heart has a new crack through it.

“Grandchildren are the crowning glory of the aged” Proverbs 17:6a

I have such joy in my grandchildren. They are gifts to my heart. They have taught me and enriched my life.

Ode to Mom

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He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths, Psalm 23:3a  (NLT)

I was eleven when my Mom died. For Mother’s Day, I decided to rework a post about her from my original blog.

As the years go on memories of my Mom ebb and flow.  Sometimes there is a clarity to the memories like looking through a window pane. Time seems to be non-existent, like she could be sitting right beside me.  Other times the memories are like an old faded letter.  The edges are worn and the ink is fading.  Time has begun to erase the sharp edges and the clarity of what you are grasping for.

In reality, how many of us truly remember everything from when we were eleven and before?  That is an age of being a child.  A place where things like cancer and death should not exist.  A place where there should not be a bed set up in what was a playroom before. There should not be memories of a table filled with prescription bottles and get well cards.  A child should not know what a bed pan is or how to empty it.  But, this child, along with her sisters knew that.  It was our reality. It was what part of our childhood consisted of for six months.

I have often wondered what lessons I had gleaned from my Mom.  She taught us the basics, how to eat, wash, take care of ourselves, iron, do some laundry.  We learned by mistakes how to cook, clean, iron things other than handkerchiefs, how to get groceries, how to be strong, independent women.  We learned to take things in stride.  We had learned the hard lessons already,  people get sick and people die and you learn to stand up, dust yourself off and move in a forward direction.

I spent many years in differing situations wondering what my Mom would do, what she would think, what she would say.  I still do that occasionally.  The truth is, I don’t know.  For the woman who I knew and love was young.  I was young.  The truths she would have imparted to me would be the truths you tell a child.  Truths that are not totally complete, for as a child how can you grasp a full concept of things?

The one thing I remember is her telling me that Psalm 23 was her favorite Bible verse.  Of course, it may have been for that moment it was her favorite, but, I hold that psalm close to me as being her favorite.  I chose this verse today because of her.  Also, this verse reminds me of Whose guiding hand has been ever-present in my life.  He has guided me when I didn’t have a Mom to verbally tell me not to do things.  Did I always listen?  No, just like I would not have listened to my Mom.

The point is, though, that we are given one mother.  She brings us in to the world.  She nourishes us, holds us, loves us and teaches us as much as she can.  As a mother myself, I know mothers are not perfect creatures.  We tire.  We get discouraged. We sometimes focus on the wrong things.  We don’t always listen with an open mind.  We don’t always agree with what is going on.  But, underneath all of it, at the very core of our hearts, that bond between mother and child is permanently knit into our being.  It is a cord that cannot be severed.  It is our lifeblood.  It is our heartbeat.  It is that voice deep within us that echoes throughout us.

That cord was broken so many years ago, but the song of love still exists for me.  You are still missed.

Heartbreak

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We all experience heartbreak. No one is exempt from it.

It could be that I have watched too many period series with my daughter this past week that has caused me to think about heartbreak.  It is rumbling in my thoughts, so I am going to consider the topic today.

Heartbreak comes in many ways. No one who is alive remains unscathed by this dilemma. Once it happens, it consumes us. No one can heal someone with a broken heart. Only time will begin to diminish it’s hold on us. Days will eventually begin to brighten. Memory starts to function again. I went through a long season of heartbreak. I could not remember the date, the year, the season. All was a blur to me. I felt devastated, alone and empty. It will rip through your mind, your health and your emotions.

In time, life was restored to me. I began to see the beauty of a day. I began to smile and eventually laughter reappeared. 

Through it all, the Lord was close to me. I know He was although I didn’t spend much time with Him. 

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed” Psalm 34:18 (NLT)

May your hearts today begin a healing if you are in a season of  heartbreak. May your days begin to brighten. May our Lord walk with you and hold you up.

Drawing a Blank

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There are times when we draw a blank. There is nothing there. Nothing to speak of, nothing to give attention to.

As I started this, I thought I would just start to write and hopefully something encouraging or spiritual would flow into the words.

Instead, there is nothing. I am a person, I become tired and I draw blanks. This past week I have spent with my oldest daughter. It has been a delightful time together, we have had many adventures as she prepares her lake house for rental.

We have shopped, had lunch together and talked. We have binged some series she has wanted to watch together and we have laughed and cried through those. This afternoon she fixed me a marvelous lunch.

This week has been a work week and a refreshing week for me. No, nothing spiritual has come to mind today, but my heart is full and I am blessed. There is nothing better in life.

My mind may be blank, but I know that my devotion to my family is in place. My daughters and grandchildren are my heart. My husband is my gift. And although I am drawing a blank I know that in my spirit, soul, and heart resides the permanent love for my Lord. It is through Him that I have been so abundantly gifted with what I have mentioned above. Thank you Lord for this beautiful life You have given me.

Be like Rain

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This weekend we were able to spend time with our granddaughter and her family. They recently adopted a chocolate lab puppy, Rain. She is full of life and soft and silky as only labs can be.

Rain meets you with full force. She bounds into a room expectantly. She knows that she is the cutest thing in the room and she is ready to receive any and all attention. Our other two ‘grand-pups’ are older. They actually shudder when Rain comes in. Their mouths curl up on the sides and low growls emit from them. The two who are usually the sweetest natured pups become old curmudgeons. The youthful pup versus the old, staid, steady pups. It was a sight to behold.

This is Rain after romping up and down the beach and swimming. She is peaceful, quiet and sleeping soundly. Quieted and comfortable on the dock.

Watching her reminded me of the actions of a newly born again Christian. The spiritual rebirth arouses an action of energy. People are excited and ready to share their enthusiasm with others to the point that people snarl at you. They are used to the way they do things. They have a plan. They do things their way. They are not always up for hearing and seeing new things.

I think we need to be like Rain. Playful, ready to romp and share the good Word of Life. Ready to raise a paw and pop someone on the snout, asking for attention to be brought to the Good News.

This playful, happy puppy reminded me to return to my first love and be energetic about it.

Revelation 2:2-5 says, “I know all the things you do. I have seen your hard work and your patient endurance. I know you don’t tolerate evil people. You have examined the claims of those who say they are apostles but are not. You have discovered they are liars. You have patiently suffered for me without quitting. But I have this complaint against you. You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first. If you don’t repent, I will come and remove your lampstand from its place among the churches.”

Free and Flying

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I went to the playground yesterday. We picked my granddaughter up from school and her mom drove us to the playground.

My sweet girl ran out of the car and headed towards the monkey bars. She was crawling and going from one rung to another. Soon after that, the slide was her object of attention. Climbing up the slide and engaging a couple of smaller children in conversation, she slide down. Her laughter was music to me, filling my heart with such pride, amazement and love.

My daughter and I talked while she played. Eventually I headed over to the swings. I love to swing. Our Little Miss was incredulous to see her grandmother on a swing, like I was too old for such a stunt. I challenged her to see who could swing higher. The challenged was readily accepted. The feeling of flying freely through the air was delicious. Pumping my legs to go high and laughing with my Little Miss, made the years fade away for me. There is nothing as exhilarating to me as swinging. It is one thing I always enjoy.

Of course, she won the contest as with age and wisdom I didn’t have the stamina to pump as hard as my seven year old challenger. I gave her credit for beating me.

As I stopped pumping my legs I realized I had to stop. Stopping was much easier years ago. Somehow putting your feet down and dragging them to stop the swing was not as jarring as it was yesterday. In that I felt like the old grandma person I am.

As I was swinging, though, I felt free. I wondered how it will feel once I am with the Lord. Where I can swing as high as I want and jump off the swing knowing that I am safe.

Joy comes in many forms. This week it is coming in the form of a treasured seven year old. She awakens the freedom, the enthusiasm of life. Running becomes flying and freedom.

“ But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.” Matthew 19:14 (NLT)

Are You Listening?

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“Moreover He said to me: “Son of man, receive into your heart all My words that I speak to you, and hear with your ears.” Ezekiel 3:10 (NKJV)

I felt the Lord’s direction in starting this blog. I still believe it is what He wants me to do. I have been asked how I think of things to write about. I can honestly say, the Lord puts into my mind what to start and He fills in the blanks. Oftentimes I have to reread a post to remember what I wrote about. I don’t know how this works, but it does.

Yesterday as I was preparing to write, the scripture above came into my mind. I kept hearing Ezekiel 3:10. Most of the time when I have a scripture reference stuck in my mind it ends up being a random sentence and I am puzzled why I dwelt on that verse. I finally went to my Bible and looked up the scripture. I was amazed when it made perfect sense to me.

We often talk about wanting to hear from God. When we have a decision that needs to be made, it is often said, “I just wish I could hear from God.”

He speaks to us often. We need to clean out our ears and listen. Too often, in my case, what I hear is not what I want to hear. Like the child being told to clean up their room or get ready for bed, I rebel and like the child I refuse.

I endeavor to hear and listen. There is a difference, I think. Sometimes we hear, but we are not listening to what is truly being said. In writing, I attempt to not only hear, but listen. When I do successfully do this, I hear with my ears and the words go to my heart.

We want to be heard. To make a difference in the lives of others. We enjoy conversations when we have attentive exchanges. Similarly God wants the same respect, to be heard and listened to. To have an attentive conversation with us where we place deep in our hearts all that He has said.

Reflection

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Reflections are wonderful to look at. Seeing inverted trees from a shoreline reflecting in the water, hillsides going down in the waterline mirroring the shore. We stand mesmerized, watching the beauty of nature.

“Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror,” I Corinthians 13:12a (NLT)

Each day as we look in the mirror we see a reflection of ourselves. Sometimes we may see beauty, but often we just see flaws. We study our outward man in the reflection.

People in our lives see the outward man, but those around us also see the reflection of our inner man. What do we reflect? How is our reflection affecting those in our lives?

The rest of I Corinthians 13:12 talks about how we see imperfectly, but then when we are with the Lord we will see in totality. How we now know in part, and ends like this, “but then I shall know just as I also am known”

What is our reflection saying to others? How are we known to those in our lives?

My Three Mothers

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“Direct your children onto the right path,
    and when they are older, they will not leave it.” Proverbs 22:6 (NLT)

Most people have one mother. I was blessed to have three women whom I consider a mother to me.

The first, Elizabeth, gave birth to me. She taught me how to walk, eat, when to sleep, talk. She gave me life and I like to think my sense of humor. She would talk with me while sitting on our porch, she encouraged me to write. She truly gave me roots and wings. She moved to heaven when I was eleven. She established me in this world.

My second mother was really my older sister, Dottie. She was fifteen when our mother passed away. Her childhood was cut short. She became the mother figure to both myself and my younger sister. She guided me through my teen years, giving me insight and ideas. We didn’t always see eye to eye, and I often wonder if my mother had survived cancer, if we would have gotten along. Maybe it was my obstinate ways that caused conflict. Dottie was there for me in heartbreaks and victories in school and she cheered me on the days that looked bleak. I would not have had the experiences I did in high school had it not been for her.

I married young. When I first started dating Dale, his mother did not like me. She made that fact well known. Eventually, though, we both softened in our approach to each other. She didn’t have a daughter and I didn’t have a Mom, so together we planned our wedding, giving her the experience of a daughter and me having a Mom to share the excitement with.

My mother-in-law, Marietta, became a Naomi to my Ruth. “But Ruth replied, “Don’t ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God.” Ruth 1:16 (NLT) When she moved to heaven, grief for her was what I experienced as an eleven year old.

I have been fortunate to have the love and encouragement of three beautiful women in my life. They have taught me to grow, to learn, to accept and respect. I thank my Lord for each of them.

Needed

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A mother goes through stages in her life. At first their child is dependent on them for their every need. It’s exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. You cannot catch your breath because it may interfere in the next feeding or diaper change.

Mothers of toddlers are tossed to and fro. From the highs of learning to walk and crawl and eat by themselves, to the terrible twos, the torturous threes and the fickle fours. They can’t catch their breath because they are too busy moving.

School starts and a Mother’s life switches gears. Slowly they go from hearing about the excitement of a day to being more of a taxi service to seeing them as they go from one adventure to another.

A Mother will accept each season of their lives with grace and a few tears. Eventually a Mother is someone who will text or call or be on the receiving end of a text or call.

At the end of their tenure, they are grandma and their breath is lonely for the days of being needed. We accept this as mothers, and it is a hard pill to swallow. I can remember a few years back when I tearfully complained to Dale that the girls no longer needed me. I expected consolation. What I got was a reminder. He looked at me and hinted to me that I had taught them to be strong independent women who could take care of themselves. The hint was supposed to comfort me and in a way it did, but it didn’t help my feeling of not being useful.

Last week we received a call from our oldest. It wasn’t a panic call. It wasn’t a call where she called me Mommy (those are dangerous ones). She simply asked when we could come up. They needed some help. Our son in law needed another set of strong hands and our daughter just needed some help.

I hung up and all at once Motherhood came to life. I felt needed. It was a great feeling, one I am enjoying thoroughly.

“So give your father and mother joy! May she who gave you birth be happy” Proverbs 23:25 (NLT)