Poetry Sunday: A Mother's Trials

Prov. 31: 10, 27-28 "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."

A Mother’s Trials

Six children born to parents 

At different eras and times

One during a peaceful age 

One during wartime crimes

Two were born surprisingly

Two lost along the way

Then came two bouncing girls

Making the family a buffet.

The mother’s trials were endless

With her six kids underwing

While father being the breadwinner

Made mother’s trials the sting.

Nothing perfect happened

In the years that followed suit

One son went into the service

While the other a different route

Four kids left to figure out

What right and wrong would come

Mother taking a job to help

The kids not under her thumb.

The years passed by so quickly

Each different memories to hold.

Some boast of great harmony

While some had pasts of cold.

Not every life runs perfectly 

Not every childhood is grand

A mother’s trials are silent

With each child in a different hand.

A mother remembers the good times

While the child will store the bad.

But both will hold a great life 

No matter which one was had.

A mother’s trial is what forged us

Whether we like the image we see.

Her trials are what formed and shaped

The intricate family.

As Mother’s Days will come and go

Just as each life will come to pass

Remember through trials and errors

It’s our Mothers love that will last!

~*~*~*~*~*~*

My mother and dad would've been married 61

years this year. He's passed over and she waits for the day to see him again. But this is MY story, not hers. I just want what is best for her, a great day!

End of the Year: Part III

Rom. 13:13-14 “Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying.

But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.”

End of the Year: Part III

Polar opposites. That is the only term I can come up with when I think of my family and my hubby’s family. My hubby’s dad passed away when he was twenty-five and he basically didn’t have a dad for many of those years because of a divorce of his mom and dad, but let me tell you, his family is simply amazing in their endurance of togetherness.

His great-grandparents and grandparents (on his mother’s side) were the pillars that set the stage for the future generations to come. They were deeply rooted in the love of the Lord and handed down that passion for ages to come. No not all of the family watered and nurtured the seed that was planted so long ago, but when I came into the family I could FEEL a difference in our polar opposites.

My great grandparents handed down alcoholism to the generations. Now while my hubby’s dad was a drinker, alcoholism never had a chance to define the children because the mother was so rooted in her dedication to the Lord. What the children do with the seed is totally up to them, they have free will to pick and choose where the next generation will take the family.

My family on the other hand, for generations, was defined by alcohol. I’m not talking about casual drinkers now; I’m talking about generations of alcoholics. My great-grandmother, my grandparents (on both sides from what I can tell) were very heavy drinkers, and all their kids and their kids' kids, all became drinkers or alcoholics. That was and IS my family except for the scarce few who peeled themselves AWAY from the family to become what they could on their own, like myself. I’m a survivor from way back.

Drugs and alcohol defined my life when I was very young and it was only the Hand of God that guided me in a different direction. Not my mother or father or my sister or brothers showed me a different way to live but I was determined to NOT  be like them or raise my child to grow and be a drinker. I would give him a window into the past but offer him a promise of a future, away from alcoholics.

Now many people wonder where I get my strength to battle this disease without the aid and assistance of a doctor and I can honestly tell you it is once again by the Hand of God that guides me. Live or die, my God is the guide on this long journey; always has been and always will be! I was not raised in a family that loved the Lord, we kids were basically tossed into a Catholic school and made to defend ourselves and find what we could on our own. I found God waiting to cradle me daily in life. I can’t say other members of my family were as lucky. I converted from (religious) Catholicism to (spiritual) Christianity very easily and it is the seed of the Lord that defines who I am and who I am yet to become.

You might be wondering why this is my End of the Year post? Well because on Christmas Day, the family embraced me, hugged me, allowed me to feel the love that carried them all of their lives. I feel nothing but love shining from this family. They are not perfect but to me, this is as close to perfect that I will ever see. The Mid-West farmland, the Bible belt is definitely a different place than an industrialized smoggy city like the one where I came from. Pure love is the best love here! With no ulterior motive behind the love, it becomes a blanket not much unlike the snow-covered ground. It’s a barrier of protection to the seeds below.

My blood family, on the other hand, is still continuing on the path of lies and deception. I can’t elaborate because it's not my story to tell. On Christmas Eve I went to my family FB account and wished them all a Merry Christmas, I went back the day after Christmas and not one Merry Christmas back. My family is so consumed with their selfishness, their money, their blindness that they cannot see any real love right in front of their faces except for the false products of the fabricated family that they built.

Pss. 4:2 “O ye sons of men, how long will ye turn my glory into shame? how long will ye love vanity, and seek after leasing? Selah.”

Christmas morning I called my mother to wish her a Merry Christmas and to have a good day. Later that evening I called to see how her day went. All she could talk about was how she had a good meal at my brother’s beautiful house and how she went to my sister’s and there sat my meth-head brother who is now taking advantage of my sister’s kindness in keeping him out of the frigid cold and how my other brother didn’t even send her a card and blah blah blah. Yeah, she didn’t ask how my day was and probably doesn’t want to hear how great of a family I have found and been a part of for fifteen years. 

While I sometimes miss back home, all that I really miss are the memories and to be blunt, I have them, and my story safely tucked inside my head; I don’t miss the love because my family does not know what genuine love is. I pray for them, that is all I can do. I journey on into my future that awaits me, in a polar opposite world surrounded by the path of where I was led and that is the path of LOVE! THAT, my friends, is where I find my strength! 

Pss. 18:1 “I will love thee, O LORD, my strength.”