The other day I received a Christmas card from a couple who is dear to me. Years ago, I worked with the wife. Her husband always writes something funny and wonderful in the card as well. He doesn't leave it up to her to sign the card. I opened the card and there smiling up at me was a picture of my younger self. I turned the photo over, and it was Christmas 1979, which made me 21. It was our office Christmas party, and I have forgotten many things over the past 33 years, but I remember that day. I am sitting on the lap of a coworker. Nothing racy. He said he would be Santa and I remember teasing him that he had no Santa costume. A short while before, we had dated for a couple of months. I know it's a bad idea to date someone at work, but he and I handled it well and we ended up being just fine with it. He was several years older and at that age, those years made a difference. He seemed such a man of the world to me, and we stopped dating when he said I was sweet and innocent and he would only corrupt me. That was partly true, but mostly we just "weren't into each other" as people say today. But the way he phrased it was gallant, wasn't it? He died a few years ago, and to see the younger me and the younger him, well it made me very happy.
I am young and fresh faced, bright eyed and my hair is all long and shiny. Back then I had no idea how pretty I was. I have read things like "a letter to my younger self." December 1979 I had just joined a fundamentalist Christian church, a decision that would give me unique experiences, but a lot of pain as well. It was a path that would lead me to my future marriage and those two wonderful boys who would become my sons.
Do I want to write a letter to the 21-year-old me? Nah. If I could talk to her, would I give her any advice? No. I think what I would do is hug her and say the first thing I thought of when I saw the photo: "I love you."
Susan
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
A Mother's Love
It's likely you have heard of the wise King Solomon and the story about the two women who came to him with a baby, both claiming to be the mother. In an effort to settle the dispute, the king suggested that the child be cut in half and each one could have a half. One of the women agreed, but the other was appalled and said not to hurt the child, just let the other woman have him. Instantly the king knew who the real mother was; the woman who would not see her child hurt.
The king knew all about a mother's love, from his own mother. She sat next to him when he was on his throne, and she was one of his closest advisors. I imagine a king would be surrounded by a bunch of bobbleheads, eager to agree with him on everything, yet the one person who called him out when his drinking was becoming excessive was his mother. And Solomon listened to her.
The book of Proverbs in Christianity is usually credited as being written by Solomon, yet Jewish scholars attribute its beautiful 31st chapter as being the writing of Solomon's mother. The tenth verse reads, "Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is above rubies..."
Lest you think the Queen Mother was some perfect person, let me tell you that her name was Bathsheba, the married woman who was bathing on the roof and caught the eye of King David. From there the story becomes a soap opera, with sex and murder and intrigue and the death of their first baby, and then Solomon was born. And then there is more grief and death and sibling rivalry. It was quite a dysfunctional family, this group that belonged to David and Bathsheba.
The story of the six days of creation in Judaism foretells the fact that David and Bathsheba would have a baby named Solomon. If you believe in fate, it was their destiny. It was going to happen. Yet because they were merely human, David and Bathsheba did what we as humans often do. They didn't just let go and allow it to happen, they twisted it all up and suffered a lot of messy pain. And brought pain to other people they loved.
Yet maybe, just maybe, that is what made Bathsheba such a wise woman in her later years. She knew what it was to make a poor choice, to mess things up, to suffer the consequences. And after David had long passed away, she was right there when her son needed her most.
The kingdom depended on Solomon, and the king depended on his mother. The power of a mother's love and influence is an amazing thing. Long after she held him in his arms, long after she stopped calling the shots in his life, long after he became the most powerful man in the world, long after he had any obligation to obey her, she still held sway in his life.
Love is the most powerful force in the world. And is there any love more powerful than a mother's love? I think not. I hope not.
Susan
The king knew all about a mother's love, from his own mother. She sat next to him when he was on his throne, and she was one of his closest advisors. I imagine a king would be surrounded by a bunch of bobbleheads, eager to agree with him on everything, yet the one person who called him out when his drinking was becoming excessive was his mother. And Solomon listened to her.
The book of Proverbs in Christianity is usually credited as being written by Solomon, yet Jewish scholars attribute its beautiful 31st chapter as being the writing of Solomon's mother. The tenth verse reads, "Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is above rubies..."
Lest you think the Queen Mother was some perfect person, let me tell you that her name was Bathsheba, the married woman who was bathing on the roof and caught the eye of King David. From there the story becomes a soap opera, with sex and murder and intrigue and the death of their first baby, and then Solomon was born. And then there is more grief and death and sibling rivalry. It was quite a dysfunctional family, this group that belonged to David and Bathsheba.
The story of the six days of creation in Judaism foretells the fact that David and Bathsheba would have a baby named Solomon. If you believe in fate, it was their destiny. It was going to happen. Yet because they were merely human, David and Bathsheba did what we as humans often do. They didn't just let go and allow it to happen, they twisted it all up and suffered a lot of messy pain. And brought pain to other people they loved.
Yet maybe, just maybe, that is what made Bathsheba such a wise woman in her later years. She knew what it was to make a poor choice, to mess things up, to suffer the consequences. And after David had long passed away, she was right there when her son needed her most.
The kingdom depended on Solomon, and the king depended on his mother. The power of a mother's love and influence is an amazing thing. Long after she held him in his arms, long after she stopped calling the shots in his life, long after he became the most powerful man in the world, long after he had any obligation to obey her, she still held sway in his life.
Love is the most powerful force in the world. And is there any love more powerful than a mother's love? I think not. I hope not.
Susan
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Best Job Ever
My younger son was updating my smart phone, and there was a security question. "What is your favorite job?" he read to me, his hands resting on the keyboard of his computer. "Oh!" I shouted with enthusiasm, and he was a little startled. "Mom! Being a mom is my favorite job." We both laughed. It's true. I have big dreams and big plans for me, before I leave this planet. But nothing I ever do could be as important or as fulfilling as being a mother.
I wanted to be a mother from the time I was around 21. I craved motherhood. I longed for children. I did not come to motherhood via the usual route. My two sons are my stepchildren. What a joy. What an honor. What a privilege to help raise these two wonderful young men to adulthood, and to continue to be a part of their lives. Being a mom was everything I had hoped for, and more.
In the sacred writings of Islam, Judaism and Christianity, you can read about a prophet and a seer named Samuel. He was a man of faith who made the lives of those around him better with his generosity and kindness. He was the last Judge of Israel, an influential but humble man who had a mother named Hannah.
Samuel almost never happened. Let me tell you the story. One of two wives at a time when polygamy was the norm, Hannah was infertile while the other wife had many sons and daughters. Nothing was understood about infertility back then. It was called being barren. Some thought God had shut up Hannah's womb. It was shameful to not have any children. Maybe a curse. Who knew?
Hannah wanted more than anything to have a child. She prayed continually to no avail. She bargained with God, promising that if she had a baby she would dedicate him to God. She would become so distraught over it that she couldn't eat. Her husband was hurt that she was hurting, and to tell the truth, his feelings were a little hurt. "I love you, Hannah," he would say. "You know you're my favorite wife. Isn't my love enough for you?" Honestly, it wasn't enough. I think some men (not all certainly, but some men) don't understand us women when it comes to children.
One day, Hannah was in the temple praying for a child. She was very emotional, yet no sound came out of her mouth, as her lips moved. The priest Eli, sure she was drunk, approached her and told her to leave. Being drunk in church. Disgusting. Then she poured out her heart to him, and Eli understood. He joined Hannah in prayer. She was soon calm and confident that she would have a baby. She even felt well enough to eat. Eli had not only heard her, but he understood her heart's desire.
Hannah went home and she conceived a child, a boy named Samuel, which means, "God has heard." Hannah was true to her promise. When Samuel was three years old, she took him to Eli and left him there to live so that he could receive his religious instruction. Hannah didn't regard Samuel as her possession. She allowed him to fulfill his destiny. She did everything she could to make sure this little boy would become everything he could be. She loved generously and unselfishly, and her son grew to be a man who blessed many people. She was happy to share Samuel with the world.
Women are rarely even called by name in ancient scripture, and very little is known about Hannah and what else she did with her life. But knowing what I know about her, I think just being known as Samuel's mother is enough for Hannah. More than enough.
Susan
.
I wanted to be a mother from the time I was around 21. I craved motherhood. I longed for children. I did not come to motherhood via the usual route. My two sons are my stepchildren. What a joy. What an honor. What a privilege to help raise these two wonderful young men to adulthood, and to continue to be a part of their lives. Being a mom was everything I had hoped for, and more.
In the sacred writings of Islam, Judaism and Christianity, you can read about a prophet and a seer named Samuel. He was a man of faith who made the lives of those around him better with his generosity and kindness. He was the last Judge of Israel, an influential but humble man who had a mother named Hannah.
Samuel almost never happened. Let me tell you the story. One of two wives at a time when polygamy was the norm, Hannah was infertile while the other wife had many sons and daughters. Nothing was understood about infertility back then. It was called being barren. Some thought God had shut up Hannah's womb. It was shameful to not have any children. Maybe a curse. Who knew?
Hannah wanted more than anything to have a child. She prayed continually to no avail. She bargained with God, promising that if she had a baby she would dedicate him to God. She would become so distraught over it that she couldn't eat. Her husband was hurt that she was hurting, and to tell the truth, his feelings were a little hurt. "I love you, Hannah," he would say. "You know you're my favorite wife. Isn't my love enough for you?" Honestly, it wasn't enough. I think some men (not all certainly, but some men) don't understand us women when it comes to children.
One day, Hannah was in the temple praying for a child. She was very emotional, yet no sound came out of her mouth, as her lips moved. The priest Eli, sure she was drunk, approached her and told her to leave. Being drunk in church. Disgusting. Then she poured out her heart to him, and Eli understood. He joined Hannah in prayer. She was soon calm and confident that she would have a baby. She even felt well enough to eat. Eli had not only heard her, but he understood her heart's desire.
Hannah went home and she conceived a child, a boy named Samuel, which means, "God has heard." Hannah was true to her promise. When Samuel was three years old, she took him to Eli and left him there to live so that he could receive his religious instruction. Hannah didn't regard Samuel as her possession. She allowed him to fulfill his destiny. She did everything she could to make sure this little boy would become everything he could be. She loved generously and unselfishly, and her son grew to be a man who blessed many people. She was happy to share Samuel with the world.
Women are rarely even called by name in ancient scripture, and very little is known about Hannah and what else she did with her life. But knowing what I know about her, I think just being known as Samuel's mother is enough for Hannah. More than enough.
Susan
.
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