Happy Mother's (Father's) Day 2007

Today I am feeling rather nostalgic, having had a very special day. My day started with breakfast in bed--lots of fresh fruit, coffee and cashews and pistachios, "to clear the palate," said Tim. Rebecca had a bouquet of flowers, Timothy had surprised me with a new CD by my new favorite Jim Brinkman, and David gave me money toward a new purse. All of the kids made their cards for me, because I absolutely love homemade cards, the cornier the better.

I managed to get my salad for our tiny church made and got to the meeting on time, where all the moms were honored with a Gerbera daisy and a German rap about moms by our coworker's eleven-year-old daughter. Watching her 50 something mom boogie to the rap really made my day. We have an awesome team!

For my Mother's Day present (in addition to the yummy breakfast), Tim had bought a family ticket to a benefit concert by 13 members of the Berliner Symphony. 7 played Stradivarius violins, 2 played Stradivarius violas, and 2 Stradivarius cellos. When they started to play, the sound was so incredible that I got goose bumps. What a concert! Tim and I both sat wishing my Cheih Cheih (means "Big Sister"--we adopted her in our hearts but not legally before I was born), who played violin at our wedding, could have been there to enjoy it with us. I thought it was cool that we were both thinking of her without telling each other. :)

We came home to finish the day with a funny movie, and there was a special email for Mother's Day from my first-cousin-once-removed Maren, who had thought of me in church that morning, triggered by the sermon she heard. Her email just finished off an incredible day.

But back to this morning for a minute . . . . In our service, Steph asked us all to take 5 minutes just to express personal thanks and praise to the Lord quietly in our hearts. As I sat there, I thought back on the significant May 13/Mother's Days in my life . . .

In 1979, my father died on May 8 at age 62. I was 21, and felt as though someone chopped the leg off of the chair I was sitting on. The memorial service was May 11, and Mother's Day fell on May 13 that year as well. I will never forget what my mother said that day: "I have lost my husband, but I am so grateful to God that this Mother's Day I have all of my children with me." It was so typical of mother to have an attitude of gratitude, even in the most difficult of circumstances. I miss my mom today. I miss my mother so often, and hear her wise words in my head. I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for her this morning.

In 1982, on May 13, 25 years ago, Tim surprised me by proposing. I knew it was coming, but not on that day. We've been at this thing called marriage now for a long time, and it is worth the effort! We often say, "If God can take two people as different as the two of us, and make a strong marriage out of it, there is hope for any couple." Thank you, Jesus, for all that grace. Thank you for my precious husband. Thank you for our three children, and that I have all three of them together today.

Then in 1996, our family had our miracle Mother's Day. Jan's son Timothy, "Timo," had lost his memory the previous summer while at camp with his cousins. In one moment, his past was completely wiped out. Suddenly, everyone was a stranger. The child who was reading Grisham in the car with Tim and me on the way to our extended family vacation suddenly didn't know how to pronounce Aunt "Lyn." He had a few rudimentary math skills, but nearly everything else was gone. When my sister took him home after vacation, he had to have a tour of the house to see where things were. In addition, he also mysteriously had pikilothermia, a condition which meant he passed out every time his temperature went over 98. Even Mayo Clinic had no reasonable explanation. No one could figure out what to do.

By spring, my sister and her husband had seen only a little progress in Timo's coping with the horrific experience of his past being wiped out in just a few minutes. He'd have panic attacks at school, or pass out as soon as he exerted himself or got warm. My sister and her high-school daughter began wearing beepers to be available to the school whenever he passed out. He was coping, barely, his joy gone, his humor disappeared, and we were all worried. Summer was coming. How would he cope with the increase in heat? He was most comfortable in 45 degree weather. What kind of a life was this for a child of eleven?

Our hearts were broken, and I began learning a whole new dimension about prayer. All of us in the extended family were praying, all over the world, but I remember thinking that everything I was learning about prayer now had a test case--it all had to be brought to bear on this situation, and I was through with polite "political correctness" in my praying. It was time to be really honest with the Lord with no sugar coating. God met me and the children as we prayed each day in concrete ways for Timo. We left for Germany in April, our hearts still heavy for him, still praying. We'd seen him cross a few milestones, but healing was still a long way down the road, if ever.

That Mother's Day in 1996, Timo leaned over to his mom in church and nudged her. "Mommy! I remember Jill's 14th birthday! We had donuts with candles!" The event had taken place 6 years before. Then he suddenly remembered another random event, and another. There, in the midst of a church service, God suddenly, miraculously, completely healed "our" Timo. That night I woke up in the middle of the night. I got up and asked the Lord, "Why did You do it that way?" A random reference popped into my head, so I looked it up. It said: "I am the Lord your God. I will not share my glory with another." God healed Timo in such a way that not a soul could say, "It was my prayers," "It was X therapy," "It was . . ." No. It was, plainly and simply . . . God.

This Mother's Day, I find myself being thankful for a lot of things: my own mother, my precious husband, three delightful children and their sweet spirits, our team, our extended families, including precious however-we-are-related aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and cousins. But really, when it boils down to it, I am most thankful for my heavenly Father, the One who reminded me this morning, "It is I, Lyn. I deserve all the glory and honor for all of these wonderful things in your life and in the lives of those you hold most dear." Thank you, Abba, Father. Happy Father's Day.