Forever My Mom

 "Honor your father and mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD, your God is giving you."  ~ Exodus 20:12

      Born on June 24, 1934, my mother entered this world as an only child of Fred & Florence Lee.  The country was in the throes of the Great Depression, but my mother's parents lived comfortably on their combined salaries. They helped family members who were less fortunate during this time. Fred was a Sales Regional Manager with the American Can Company and Florence worked for the government in the Defense Department.  Within two years Fred, Florence and Nancy would travel to from Milwaukee to Kansas City to establish their home.

     My sister and I are the recipients of the heritage left by our grandparents and parents.  Nancy married Nick Taral in August 1956 and I was born two years later in 1958. As our mother faces the remaining months of her life, I seek to share my heritage in an effort to honor this woman who gave birth to me, her eldest daughter.
     
     For most of my adult years I struggled to have an authentic relationship with my mother.  Nancy was kind, very generous and had a full heart for serving without notoriety.  On the flip side, she was insecure and lived in fear of making others angry and, was deeply involved (too much so) with her family's lives.  Florence was a strict, critical and demanding mother, albeit one who loved her family deeply.  Nancy loved Florence, but was really much closer to her father, Fred.   Fred was full of life and often the "life of the party," whereas Florence was the "hostess with the most".  Nancy was a mixture of both her parents.

     My mother and I began the distance-dance when I turned fifteen.  The center of my world no longer revolved around my family, but was firmly rooted in school friend's circles.  As an adult, I realize now how difficult it is to begin stepping away as your children learn to fly into the semi-adult worlds of junior & high school.  Then our worlds imploded with one unexpected bomb at age sixteen, I became pregnant.

     The decision to have an abortion was one decision that irrevocably changed our family dynamics for the worse.  Nick signed the papers permitting the abortion and Nancy drove me for the procedure.  Nick expressed no remorse for the actual abortion, itself, for the duration of his life, but Nancy experienced deep grief, remorse and guilt over her part as the mother-of-the-pregnant-teenager.  Our family would not talk about this event for many, many years.  Only upon his deathbed did Nick share that he felt badly about my pregnancy, but believed that life truly begins with the newborn's first breath.  Nancy wasn't quite so sure.

     Nancy has lived 42 years beyond that tragic year.  In the last twelve years we have talked honestly and explored both of our hearts together.  We both deeply regret the decision to abort this tiny baby, and the healing of our mother-daughter relationship developed slowly for both of us.  

For the past ten years Nancy has lived, at first, under my roof, and now in an assisted living/nursing care facility.  My sister supports me as I support our mother.  Nancy clings to life because she is fearful of dying ~ this I have heard my mother say aloud.  She believes in her heart that Jesus loves her but has trouble understanding that His love is His gift of grace to us.  Nancy, deep within her soul, believes that one's works will earn the ticket to heaven.  Therein lies the deception of the enemy.

     Recently I studied with Stella, a hospice chaplain who specifically helps others move through the grief process.  My heart aches for my mother because understanding and true forgiveness came late in our lives. We wasted so much time not talking about the wedge that drove us apart.  I have learned much about my mother and myself through this study of grief.  Nancy lived life the best that she knew how to.  Given the circumstances and the times, we plodded through life loving one another, yet living with some emotional distance which frustrated both of us.  After the "event" Nancy became super involved with working at Sprint and building upon her female friendships.  I was super busy raising three children including one special son.  My mother and I  seemed unable to bridge the emotional gap between us. 

     No longer guarded with one another, I can now truly embrace the woman who grew-up in the shadow of a dominant Mother.  Nancy wrestles with severe dementia and can no longer impart wisdom.  But she can listen and whisper, "I love you so much."

     God has whispered to my soul, "Love your mother, unconditionally, as I have loved you."  and so, I have.  My prayers are for for my mother to experience true joy and peace as she wrestles through the remaining months of her life.  

     Since learning and understanding the depths of my mother's love for me, I have come to a state of forgiveness both for her part in my decision, but mostly, for myself for blaming Mom for my decision.  

     In conclusion, I leave you with these "Six Practical Ways to Honor Your Parents":

1.  Forgive them.
2.  Speak well of them.
3.  Esteem them publicly and privately.
4.  Seek their wisdom.
5.  Support them.
6.  Provide for them.

Author:  Tim Challies, blogger, author and book reviewer

     

     
     

Deceptions of the Devil

      "When someone tells you to consult mediums and spiritists, who whisper and mutter should not a people inquire of their God?  Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?"  Isaiah 8:19 

     One beautiful fall day in 1990 I attended a Psychic Fair with a friend in the East Bottoms district of downtown Kansas City. The scene resembled a costume party with many of the attendees and vendors wearing outrageous outfits designed to invoke an air of solemn mystical exploring.  Booths were set up so that attendees could pick and choose which sort of psychic activity to be a part of.  One might purchase palm readings for $5 or tarot card readings for $10. 

     Rounding a corner I walked past a booth made to look like an old-fashioned lean-to with shelves and shelves of little vials.  I remember seeing one little bottle with the label "bat's blood" on it!  For some reason this exhibit gave me the creeps.  Then one elderly woman sidled next to me and whispered,  "Don't let anyone touch your little baby!"  I thought she was asking if she could hold precious Megan who was nestled across my chest in a baby carrier.  "Oh, no, thank you," I stammered.  "She's just fine with me."  "No," the lady urgently hissed.  "I said DON'T let anyone touch your baby.  They will try to steal the energy from her -- a baby's energy is very strong, indeed."  Let me assure you -- no one touched even one hair on Megan's head!  And my friend and I left soon thereafter.

    And that's when I realized that delving into the psychic world of the occult was sinister, and perhaps, even dangerous.  When I left the Fair that day I resolved never to venture into this world again.  And when I became a Christian, God began to show me just how much He'd protected me during my times of experimenting with the occult.

     Who doesn't want to have the perfect answers for life?   Which of us doesn't want to know our future or at least the good parts of our future?  As a child and even into my twenties I sought answers to questions and my future through various psychic means.  

     My first forays into the psychic realm began in elementary school through typical games of the 60's like "Magic 8 Ball".  My friends and I would sit close together and ask important questions to the ball like,  "Does Bryan love me?"  and "Will I get a good teacher for sixth grade?"  If we didn't like the answers it was easy to ask again and again, hoping for the eventual very best answer of all, "Decidedly so"! 

     Then there was a game called "Ka-bala with the Might Eye of Zolar".  My friends and I sat around this board game, chanting the magical words, "Pax, Sax, ..." (as the instructions said to) and wait for the mysterious black marble to swirl around and around a groove until it landed on one of many symbols which would spell out your future.  Another popular game we played was the "Ouija Board" which was supposed to answer questions about anything and everything. 

     Combing the horoscope columns in the newspaper I looked daily to see what kind of day I might have.  I bought Linda Thompson's "Book of Sun Signs" so that I could read about my own sun sign and the signs of others.  It was fun and (I thought) educational.  By my junior year in high school I'd bought a deck of tarot cards and for some reason, I couldn't get myself to spend much time learning how to use them properly.  There was something chilling and sinister about these cards and I was just a little scared of them.   The "death card" was especially worrisome to me. 

     Fortunately for me, none of these games did much spelling of answers to my many questions.  And most often, the answers I did shake-out were incorrect.  And I don't remember what the gypsy fortune teller told me when I visited her while in college.  It's a good thing, too, because I don't want to know my future anymore! 

     As a mature middle-aged woman, I am filled with regret and rue over those days of seeking answers to my future.  I am very certain that God saved me from uncertain evil and unrest during those searching times.  As one who became a Christian later in life, I seem to return to my past periodically and watch God peel yet another layer of deceit from myself.  Compelled to break free from my past I have asked God to sever any link from my exploration into the occult.  The deceit was that answers for my future could be found in other places besides God.  And even now I am coming to the realization that it is best that I not know the future.

     Because of my history into the dark world of psychic exploration I am especially careful about the movies and TV shows I watch, the books I read and the music I listen to.  I believe that God has called me to eliminate any part of the occult world from my present life.  Because of this I sometimes find myself a little alone and, yes, even a little ostracized for my beliefs.  All because I feel called to forsake completely the things of the "dark".

     I believe there are several reasons for staying away from the world of psychic phenomenon and the occult, but here are my top five reasons:

     We turn away from a True faith in Jesus.
     We look to others for guidance rather than God.
     We open ourselves up to spirits other than the True Spirit of God.
     We are disobeying the Word of God -- the bible which clearly warns us not 

      to engage with the occult.
              

     "When you enter the land the Lord God is giving you, do not learn to imitate the detestable ways of the nations there.  Let no one be found among you who ... practices divination and sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the dead.  Anyone who does these things is detestable to the Lord ... You must be blameless before the Lord your God."  Deuteronomy 18: 9-13