When I read the story below it affected me in a very profound
way. Hopefully, the story will bless you too.
My prayer is for my own thoughts at the end of this story
to give hurting mothers and daughters a bit of hope.
God, please help hurting families around the world to heal their broken
relationships... *Amen*
~Dot McEntire~
Help Mom, I Need You!
Whatever is the matter with me? I ponder, standing outside on my deck. It's a
beautiful evening in early spring, and there's no reasonable explanation for why
I've abruptly canceled my plans to go away for the weekend. As I've just
explained with some embarrassment to my friends (who have now left for a retreat
without me), I simply have a strong feeling that I'm needed at home.
I run through a mental checklist of what might be compelling me to stay. My
family is in good health. My older daughter, Lisa, called earlier in the day to
wish me a good trip. My younger daughter, Katy, is expecting, but the baby's not
due for three weeks. Still, Katy keeps entering my thoughts.
Katy is twenty-two years old and about to be a mother herself, but I sometimes
feel as though she's still my baby. Right now things aren't too good between us.
A few weeks ago we exchanged angry words after a mix-up about a get-together
we'd tried to arrange.
"You never have time for me anymore," she said, and I resisted the impulse to
say the same.
Katy and I had always been close. But lately we just haven't been connecting.
The cool quietness of the night helps calm me. Before going inside I take one
last look overhead, staring up at the panorama of stars glittering in the vast
darkness. Suddenly, so clear they seem almost audible, these words come to mind:
"In everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests
to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard
your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7).
Why did I think of these words now? I'm still wondering even after I go inside.
When the phone rings, I reach for the receiver and hear Katy's voice; tight with
pain: "Mom, think I've started labor."
It's ten o'clock when I get to the hospital. Katy is in labor, and she's already
in the birthing room, which looks almost like a bedroom with its rocking chair
and comfortable recliner.
There, too, are Katy's husband, Mike; her big sister, Lisa; and Mike's parents.
We're all allowed to stay with Katy throughout the baby's birth.
Katy's IV is started, and a blood pressure cuff is strapped on. The fetal heart
monitor is inserted. A machine alongside the bed now sounds with every beat, and
a rapid beep, beep, beep fills the room. As Katy's labor becomes more intense,
Mike and I take turns as a breathing coach. "Katy, focus on the far wall. . .
breathe in . . . hold it . . . breathe out. . .
At two o'clock in the morning, nurses and technicians come and go, checking
machines, monitoring Katy. We joke, trying to keep Katy distracted. We can see
from the rise and fall of lines on a screen that the contractions are fiercer
and more constant. Katy asks for something for the pain.
By three o'clock in the morning, the anesthetic finally works. While Katy
catches brief snatches of rest, I watch the monitor that shows in numerals the
beats per minute of the baby's heart-155. The rhythmic beeps lull us.
A nurse comes to suggest we all go downstairs to get some coffee. "Nothing much
is happening here," she says, smiling at Katy's quiet form.
Our sleepy group straggles toward the door. But as I pass Katy's bed, she says,
"Mom, don't leave me."
"Honey, what's wrong?" I send the others on.
"The contractions seem to be different," she says. I squeeze her hand and tell
her to rest.
"I'll wake you if anything happens," I tease.
I watch the machines. The contractions are less intense but lasting much longer.
And there's another change. Up until now, the digital readout of the baby's
heartbeat has remained steady, never varying more than ten beats with each
reading: 150... 145... 140...
But now, after each contraction, the beeps are further and further apart...
125... 120... The baby's heartbeat is slowing... 95... 90... 80...
Katy's eyes open wide. "Mom! Something's wrong!"
70... 65...
Two nurses rush into the room. I hold Katy's hand, hoping my grip doesn't
indicate my panic.
... 40... 30...
The beeps stop. No numbers flash on the screen; it's completely blank.
One long shrill wail fills the room. Suddenly white uniforms are everywhere.
"What's happening?" Katy's voice is jagged with fear as a nurse pulls an oxygen
mask from the wall and slips it over Katy's mouth and nose. "Breathe," the nurse
says firmly. More people crowd the room.
Tense voices ricochet around us. "Is her doctor in the hospital?"
"Who's on call?"
"Better set up for C-section."
And then I hear words I hope Katy does not. "Tell the doctor to get here fast,"
someone calls out. 'We're losing the baby!"
"Mama, pray! Please pray!" Katy's words are muted but distinct behind the oxygen
mask.
I'm frozen with terror; I try to do as Katy says, but it's hard with all these
strangers rushing around me.
"Katy, Honey, I am praying." I lean closer to reassure her.
"I mean out loud!" Her hands twist frantically in mine.
I'd laugh if I weren't so scared. Katy's been known to roll her eyes when I even
talk about praying, much less bow my head to say grace in a restaurant. She's
often told me in great embarrassment, "Puh-Ieese, Mom, don't pray in front of
people."
But now she repeats the request. "Pray out loud," she begs. I know I've got to
keep her calm. But how to pray, what words to use?
"In everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving..."
"Thank you, God," I say, "for this baby you've created, this little one we are
so anxiously awaiting. Thank you for the hospital and the nurses."
My voice starts off weak and unsure, but as more reasons for thanksgiving come
to mind, my voice becomes confident and strong.
The piercing alarm fills the room, fills our ears, tries to fill our hearts.
"Louder, Mama!"
"Present your requests to God..."
"God, we want this baby. But we also want what you want. Help us through this,
God, please! Be in the hands and hearts of the good people working here."
Katy nods as I pray over the wailing of the alarm.
"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your
hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
With each word, I see that Katy is relaxing, that the tension and fear are
leaving her body and leaving the baby's body, too. "Thank you, God," Katy
murmurs.
The alarm stops. There's complete quiet. And then we all hear it ...
... beep... beep... beep...
... 30... 40... 45...
The baby's heart beats again.
... 70... 75... 80...
No one speaks. Everyone listens to the blessed sound of that tiny heartbeat
until it is healthy.
A soft cheer goes up in the room. The doctor pats Katy's arm. ''We'll keep an
eye on you, but I think you're going to deliver this baby normally; and soon."
Our unsuspecting family appears, bewildered by the crowded room. When I follow
the doctor into the hall and ask what happened, he shakes his head. He can't
explain what caused the crisis. And he has no idea why it reversed itself.
"There are some things we'll never have answers for," he says.
Soon baby Caitlin is born. But since she's been deprived of oxygen, her skin is
dark blue-gray. All eyes watch as an oxygen mask is used again, this time on the
baby. I hold my breath, then watch in wonder as a pink glow suffuses the tiny
body. A cheer goes up in the room once more: The baby is healthy!
A few minutes later, a nurse hands a blanket-wrapped bundle to me. In the early
morning light I look long and wonderingly at the exquisite, wide-awake face of
my new granddaughter.
"Mom?" Katy stretches her hand toward me. "I'm so glad you were there. I still
need you, you know."
"Oh, Katy," I say, "I still need to be needed."
Trusting some inner instinct, I'd been home for Katy's call. And as we trusted
in the power of His promises in a time of crisis, God had been there for us.
Ah, me and Katy and Caitlin. Yes, as the years pass, there will be moments when
we do not connect. But then will come the times when we're completely connected
in ways that pass all understanding.
by Maggie Baxter
~ The Impossible Task ~
by Dot McEntire
It's almost an impossible task for a mother to let go of her daughter (to give
her completely over to someone else).
A mother carries her daughter for nine months, then goes through the
agonizing pain of birth and by the time her baby is born a strong,
lifelong bond has been created.
With an adopted baby, the bond is created the moment a mother holds her new
daughter. The wonder of seeing her beautiful, baby girl's eyes looking intently
at her takes a lifelong foothold on a mother's heart.
Then comes middle of the
night feedings, diapers and inevitable changes as her daughter begins to grow
up. Each change in her daughter seals precious memories in a mother's mind.
A mother can't help but be very protective of her daughter. She is very careful of where
her daughter
goes and what she does. Through the years, a mother will wipe sweet tears from her daughter's
precious eyes and wish she could take all the pain away from each hurtful
situation. All the years of love and protecting her daughter will control a
mother's heart.
Then when the day comes a daughter no longer feels she needs her mother...
Heartbreak will take the place of protection and the feeling of not being needed
will add a deep sorrow to the mother's heart.
Sometimes, because of hurtful words and actions, the gap between the two will
grow so wide it seems impossible to bridge. Yet, both women truly need each other in a
desperate way.
"Never pay back evil for evil to
anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all
men. If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all
men." Romans 8: 17, 18. (NAS)
We need to recognize how Satan goes about his business working hardest on
families who love the Lord. He splits up families by using pride, hurt
feelings and actions to make any small gap even wider. If we truly love our Lord
we will do our best to heed His teachings on healing damaged relationships.
"To sum up, let all be harmonious,
sympathetic, brotherly, kindhearted, and humble in spirit. Not returning evil
for evil, or insult for insult, but giving as blessing instead; for you were
called for the very purpose that you might inherit a blessing." 1 Peter 3: 8, 9
(NAS).
I need to insert here that even though you may do all God requires for healing a
broken relationship, it doesn't mean the other person will do their part.
Nevertheless, once we've done what God requires of us we can leave the outcome
in His hands.
"For I consider that the sufferings of
this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be
revealed to us." Romans 8: 18 (NAS)
Often, and sometimes without even knowing it, others can become part of the
problem. They may sympathize with the mother and/or daughter and there's nothing
wrong with giving a sympathetic ear, but when one agrees that the mother
or daughter has
been done a terrible wrong that agreement falls into sin.
An agreement encourages both parties to linger in their sorrow
and bitterness. Who are we to judge someone else? We don't know the whole story!
It's God's place to judge and not ours - Amen?
Far better for us to encourage the mother and daughter to heal
the relationship.
"... wisdom from above is first pure, then
peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering,
without hypocrisy. And the seeds whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace
by those who make peace." James 3: 17, 18 (NAS).
Those who do not encourage reconciliation are being used by Satan and they
are under condemnation from God. It's NEVER one person's fault when a
relationship is damaged. You can be sure both parties are to blame, and we need
to leave who is the most to blame to God's judgment. Our job as Christians
is to encourage healing in relationships.
"Let no unwholesome word proceed from your
mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of
the moment, that it may give grace to those who hear." Ephesians 4: 29 (NAS)
Sometimes, as I said earlier, there's too much pride involved and too much heartache for a complete
restoration of a relationship.
However, even if the relationship never completely heals here on earth... we
know beyond a shadow of a doubt it will be healed in heaven.
For those mothers whose hearts are breaking over the partial, or seemingly total
loss of a daughter's sweet relationship, let me give you hope. God knows and
understands both hearts and when we can not do the impossible (making things
right again), God can... and He will.
Look to Him for your hope and healing... it will come...
He promises us this.
"And we know that God causes all things to work together
for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His
purpose." Romans 8:28 (NAS)
The Lowest Valley
by the Isaacs
Click here to play music
Lord I don't want to do one thing on my own
Put me where you want me Lord where I belong
Give me the strength Lord to do thy perfect will
And when I'm in the lowest valley I can climb the highest hill
Lord I want to be what you want me to be
Lord I want to do the things you want me to do
Lord I want to stay in the center of thy will
When I'm in the lowest valley I can climb the highest hill
This world gets more wicked every day
People's hearts have grown cold, forgotten how to pray
But if I live to be a hundred I'll keep holding to your hand
Until you come and take me home to that promised land
Lord I want to be what you want me to be
Lord I want to do the things you want me to do
Lord I want to stay in the center of thy will
When I'm in the lowest valley I can climb the highest hill
There is a cross for everyone to bare...
But there's a heaven for every soul to share..
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