To whom I would send flowers on Mothers Day

Of all the days of the year, the most painful for me happens to be Mother’s Day. I figured I’d get over it when I had children of my own, but I’m still not quite there yet (even though someone told my daughter about breakfast in bed and she has been trying to find out all week which cereal I would pick, in her own sneaky way, and has requested ever so kindly that I make sure that on Saturday night the ‘milk is on the bottom shelf of the fridge where she can reach it, and isn’t too full’). When all the hallmark commercials jewellery ads and spa flyers start up, there is suddenly list of things people thank mothers for and it breaks my heart. I lost my mom to cancer when I was little, and while there have been many incredible people in my life, no one else can take this place. It occurred to me today that the most painful part of this for me is the memories of all the moment in which I wish I had had a mother to talk to, to be with, to ask questions to. That I can’t fix. The second thing is an unbounding gratitude in my heart and no particular person upon which to lavish it. That I know I can remedy in a small way. So here it is. If I had the courage (and maybe someday I will) there are so many people to whom I would like to send flowers on Mothers Day- almost too many to count!

To the woman who taught me how to take a compliment, though it took a long time

To the two unlikely men who taught me it was okay to cry, and often necessary

To the woman who taught me to love making food

To the man who taught me, without trying to, the value of tenacity and holding ones ground until adversaries had moved on

To the woman who showed me that life lived by God’s Word was going to look weird sometimes, but was worth it

To the woman who showed me what joy really looks like

To the woman who reminded me that life is allowed to be fun

To the woman who made me take one of the most frightening risks in my life because she knew I had it in me

To the man who taught me the way to freedom is to praise God for the darkest times in my life (to whom I will forever be indebted)

To the man who showed me the healing power of poetry, writing and listening to those words inside my head instead of shutting them out

To the woman who gave me countless chances to be a leader long before anyone else thought I was really ready

To the woman who walked with me in prayer for a few weeks of my life and forever changed how I saw God
To the woman who taught me that being feminine and submissive didn’t have to mean being stupid

To the three woman who taught me about inductive Bible Study and gave me a level of wisdom to aspire to.

To the woman who was not afraid of my weaknesses and not afraid to show me hers as well

To three women who are so madly in love with their husbands that I have learned much from them about loving my own

To the woman who encouraged me to seek God for the paths I should take in parenting rather than books and manuals and rules

To the woman who taught me that hospitality is not about having a spotless house

To the two women who I respect so much as mothers of their children who have given me courage and perseverance

To the man who gave me permission to not live like I was dying just because my mother had died so young – and gave me permission to live my own life

And countless more. To all of you, I thank you. Happy Mother’s Day.

In my heart I celebrate all the incredible people –men and women- God has brought into my life, to lead and guide and teach me, to talk and walk and laugh with me.

And to all of you who are Mothers – never once doubt how important you are in the life of your child, whether they acknowledge it or not. The absence of my mom is an absence I feel every day of my life. Happy Mothers Day.

What Choir has Taught Me

So for the last year and a half every Thursday night you can find me at choir practice. Being a member of the church choir is just the right amount of being involved and being an invisible face in the crowd to attract me. There’s a part of me that only feels alive when I’m singing. Plus, it’s a few hours of the week where I don’t have to worry about the details of my household, the status of laundry, where my children last placed there beloved whatchamacallit and instead to just loose myself in something that works my body and brain enough for me to stop thinking for a while (that’s a rare thing!)

Recently, I was thinking (while not at choir) about how choir has changed the way I think in several important areas of my life, and whether you can relate to this experience or not I’d like to share with you some of what I’m learning.

1. People are allowed to be wrong.

Our choir director has a happy habit of saying “Always trust your conductor and never trust your conductor”. I guess you’d have to know him to hear how this comes out – two true statements expressed with equal certainty. But it is true. For months our conductor forgot to bring in the choir on a set of ‘oooooos’ behind the soloist. If we relied on him, we would never have come in. Once he brought us in when according to our score, we had a few bars to go– and it was good that we didn’t follow him – but for the most party the conductor is very trustworthy.

I’m a big fan of authority. Really, really am. I would make a first-rate golden retriever. When someone ‘in charge’ gives me a job to do, my husband says he can see my invisible tail wag in happiness. So I love having someone tell me what to sing and how to sing it. The flip side of this of course is that I have great difficulty accepting that people – especially people I admire in any way- make mistakes. But somehow choir is beginning to teach me to balance the ‘always trust’ with a little ‘never trust’ and realize that only my God is infallible and people are allowed to make mistakes (even me).

2. Half- Voices from the choir don’t make the soloist sound better.

A new friend and I were talking last night about what we really hate about women sometimes. Mostly the fact that we always feel like we have to make ourselves less, hide who we really are so as not to make others feel badly about themselves. We both feel easier around men because we don’t have to constantly put ourselves down to maintain conversation. (If this is not your experience, consider yourself blessed to have a group of friends who lets you be who you are!) In choir, I am always fighting myself not to have a timid voice. I can sing with a very full voice when I want to, but I am often afraid to be heard over others in my section or that I might sing a wrong note. Our choir director has been urging us lately to sing with full voices, to be unafraid, and make mistakes loudly. This goes against everything I’ve always been – but I’ve just realized that a whole lot of dim half-voices from the choir doesn’t make the soloist sound any better. It’s all of us singing with all we are that makes the best sound. I saw a quote somewhere to this effect once – the woods would be silent if only but the best bird sang. Something like that. I’m sure it’s on a mug or a cross stitched wall hanging somewhere. Anyway, I know that when the rest of my section is belting it, I feel free to do the same. Being strong in who I am can have the effect of helping others to shine brightly too, and doesn’t diminish them. I’m trying not to be afraid of being a leader, being smart, feeling pretty, being good at stuff. That’s singing my part well, with all I am and all God made me.

3. I am not alone.

I like people. They also make me want to hide under my bed make me nervous. I would usually prefer to go for days without talking to anyone outside my immediate family. But a choir’s sound (and I love the sound of a choir as much as I do the sounds that leave my friends around a campfire) is reliant on not just a lot of voices, but a lot of voices that are very very different listening to one another. (If this isn’t the best training for being a good church member or member of any community really, I don’t know what is!). I think about the neighbours I live around – and realize it’s the neighbours that have asked me for help (walking their dog when they are out of town, building a patio, watching their children) who I am closest with. They weren’t afraid to show me they had a weakness and ask for help, and I respond – and I feel free to ask things of them. It is good to remember we all need to help each other – as much as I need the alto section to know when my little second soprano part comes in. Being in a choir reminds me that all day, every day of my life I am surrounded by people. I need those people to accomplish anything, and they need me. If I am feeling alone – it’s as simple as acknowledging that I need them and they need me and opening my front door to find someone I can help.

So that’s it. I’m looking forward to a new short post-Easter choir season beginning shortly, and I’m anxiously waiting to see what God has for me in it. And this is what I’ve been learning so far. What has God been teaching you lately?