A Mother’s 2nd Greatest Fear

Our community has been devastated this week by the tragic death of a 30-year old woman who was killed in a motor vehicle accident. She was also 30 weeks pregnant with their 3rd child, a boy, and she had 2 young girls, ages 6 and 23 months old. I should tell you that I didn’t personally know this wonderful young woman, but I know several people who did know her. I also spent about 6 hours yesterday reading her blog, detailing her life as a wife and mother. By all accounts, she was remarkable, and she lived her life for the Lord and for her family.

I have always thought that a mother’s greatest fear is the death of her child. But the SECOND greatest fear is that SHE would die, leaving behind young children. So when something like this happens, I think it is just human nature (well, OK, MOM-nature) to think, “Oh, my gosh, what if this happened to ME?” As a Christian, I know that the answer is supposed to be that the Lord will see my kids through. And on some level, I know this to be true. But there is this little part of my Mom-Heart that breaks into a million tiny pieces if I let myself think about this. When Elizabeth Edwards died earlier this month, leaving behind two young children, my thoughts went down this road somewhat. But this lady lived here, in Amarillo. She was a friend of my friends. She worked with other people I know. She is so much more real to me. I’ve read stories about her life and her struggles and her children, and for the life of me, I don’t know WHY, other than out of honor and respect for a fellow mother.

Then after spending all those hours mourning this young mother, fighting tears all day, on the way home from work, just a minute from home, some jerk ran a red light and almost hit me. (AND had the audacity to honk at ME!!) Thankfully, my God was watching out for me (and my children) and I was able to stop my car, but I could not stop the TEARS. When I got home, I fell to my knees and hugged my Baby Girl, who just looked at me with confused eyes, as I asked her if she understood that Mommy loved her. Then I sobbed in my husband’s arms until his shirt was soaked, crying not so much for this sweet mother who is now with Jesus, but for these three kids, two of which will not even remember her, and for this young dad who will have to face raising his family without his beloved wife.

For we ALL have to know that it call all be gone in a flash, in an instant, in a blink of an eye.

So I am going to try to do a better job of showing my kids that I love them, that I support them, that I am there for them. I’m going to take time to read the book or watch that episode of “Glee” even when I’m tired or when I don’t feel well. Because the truth is that tomorrow is NOT promised, and I don’t know when the Lord will call me home. So I need to make these memories while I can so that they can last my children a lifetime. . .




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Where do YOU hide?

Anne Frank hid in an attic to escape from the Nazis. Mr. Beaver went underground to hide from the White Witch in “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.” Jonah went to sea to hide from the Lord. I, personally, hide in my bedroom, lying in my bed.






Now I know you’re thinking that this is not a very good place to hide, and you are probably right. Anyone walking in can CLEARLY see me. After all, I’m not a small woman. And lots of people tend to come and go while I’m hiding, mainly Barre’, Bethany and McKenna. And then there’s Bella, my faithful companion, licking my face, demanding I rub her tummy. I might be reading a magazine or watching TV or snuggled up with McKenna. But all the while, I’m STILL hiding.






And what a BEAUTIFUL place to hide! In our new home, the master bedroom is just GORGEOUS! It’s huge and has this great tray ceiling and wonderful light/fan. The colors are soft and soothing. The sheets are worn down to an amazing softness. AAHH!!!!






But I am coming to realize that I have a life-long habit of “retreating” to my room. Looking back, I can see that I’ve done it my entire life. When I’m over-tired, I go to my room. When I’m mad and I REALLY don’t want to talk about it, I go to my room. When you’ve hurt me, and I need to lick my wounds, I go to my room. And I really don’t know why. I’m still waiting for the Lord to help me out with understanding this.






I DO know, though, that it has become a habit. And it’s one I guess I need to break. Sleep experts say you should only sleep or have sex in your bed. Really? What about Facebooking on my laptop? What about marathon episodes of “Criminal Minds?” What about “I just really, really, really want to be left alone”?






Hmmm. . . . BUT. . . I DO have a gorgeous living room, too, with nice, comfy furniture and a pretty fireplace. Maybe I can just start by moving out there. . . just for a start. . . while God works this out. . .






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