Mother Still
14 May 2012 4 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: loss, miscarriage, miscarry, motherhood, sadness
(I should probably begin by saying that this blog is of a profoundly personal nature, but one I simply had to write)
Today is Mother’s Day. I anticipated the typical Mother’s Day schedule- spending the day with my own mother and my children whom I adore. As we drove to church this morning I had completely forgotten about the boxes lined up in the backseat which we had recently taken from our storage unit. My seven-year-old son took advantage of the time in the car by quietly exploring the contents of each box. He found a few yearbooks, some old pictures he and his sister had drawn, and a small notebook.
Eli quietly thumbed through the pages of the notebook and would ask me occasionally what a particular word was. He found old Christmas lists that his father had written and pages of random notes and doodles. It wasn’t until he came across a particular page that my Mother’s Day quickly became anything but “typical”.
He handed me the notebook turned to a small, white piece of paper that had been written on by my long-time friend Jennifer. It contained just one sentence, “I love you ACE and I can’t wait until the baby gets here. Love, Jennifer” The letter was written to me. I am ACE- Amanda Clair Elder. I’d always appreciated that my initials automatically gave me a relatively cool and acceptable nickname. It’s used only by my nearest and dearest. I had no recollection of ever seeing this message before. I thought how sweet it was of Jen that she would be commenting about Ava, my eight year old, or Elijah. What a nice little treasure to find. It put a smile on my face remembering them both as tiny newborns. Then it hits me… I see the date. It’s like the wind has been knocked out of me and I’m waking up from a long sleep and finding myself in an unhappy reality. The date is June 10, 2002. Ava wasn’t born until September of the following year. I don’t know of anyone with a 15-month gestational period so I know this letter has to have been written in reference to my first baby. The baby I never got to meet. The baby I never got to hold. The irony of this paper being discovered on Mother’s Day is not lost on me. I’m sitting in the car with my two children. There is one more unspoken, secret life that hasn’t been mentioned in a very long time.
It’s interesting and unfortunate to me how many of my friends have also experienced miscarriage. Almost as interesting to me is the lack of discussion we all seem to have on the subject. Almost as if it’s a “taboo” or maybe people get nervous about it because they feel they simply don’t have the right words to say. Miscarriage is a loss, but I often think the world attempts to downplay its impact because they see it as the loss of someone we’ve not yet met. If I may be so bold, I would assert that this misconception must be generated by people who have never been parents because most of the women I know will tell you that the moment you have proof positive that there is a tiny life forming inside your body you instantly become “mother”.
I can’t speak for the rest of the female population, but once I realized in April of 2002 that I was expecting my life began to change. A flood of exuberance and fear and questions and planning immediately fills your mind. “Is it a boy or a girl?” “What will we name the baby?” “Will he/she be healthy?” Not to mention the female tends to go into overdrive planning nursery themes and color schemes. There’s the whole plan to work out of how to tell the family and when should it be done? So much to process and it quickly becomes all-consuming.
We do what we’re supposed to- we make our doctor’s appointments and take our prenatal vitamins. We watch every little bite we put into our mouthes knowing that everything our lips touch will have a direct effect on our baby. This little entity inside of us quickly becomes very real and very precious. Most of us have waited for this day throughout our lives. What an honor to be a mother. The honor has finally been passed on to us. Such thankfulness, such gratefulness.
Then, without warning even, in an instant everything can change. My change came during the morning of a regularly scheduled ultrasound. We were hoping to find out the sex of the baby. This day had been anticipated for weeks. As I laid on the table, belly covered in clear jelly, the ultrasound paddle was pressed over me, and over me, and over me. She would change the position and continue over, and over, and over. The lack of conversation from the technician immediately clued me in that something was not right. I couldn’t take the silence and with my mom standing by my side I quietly said, “What’s wrong?” “I can’t find a heartbeat but I’m gonna have the doctor come see.” Immediately I felt the warm tears spilling out the corners of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks as I laid on that table and waited to hear what I already feared was true. My baby was gone. Just like that. Twelve weeks.
The doctor spent the next few minutes talking. I’m sure it was something about “spontaneous miscarriage”, “very common”, and “blah, blah, blah”. Frankly I was just numb. My mind went somewhere far away and tried to absorb even just a fraction of what I’d just been told. How? WHY? I was left devastated and heartbroken. My mother and I both sobbed and then I wiped my stomach clean and wanted nothing more than to get out of that sterile room. That was an unbelievably difficult day. All of these dreams and all of these plans simply vanish like a puff of smoke. Just gone. It’s emotionally gruelling and even worse are the well-meaning people who upon hearing the news tell you “this was obviously God’s plan” and “oh, you’ll be able to have another baby”. I felt as if people were just dismissing what had really just happened. I don’t think it’s intentional, but unless you’ve personally experienced this quiet loss then one truly can’t relate. I never doubted that I’d be able to have other children, but what about this one? Doesn’t this baby deserve some form of acknowledgment? I loved this little one regardless of how brief a period of time I’d gotten to know him or her.
Because of how early into my pregnancy my miscarriage happened I wasn’t required to deliver. I had a D and C just two days after the news was delivered and that was it. It was over. When I arrived at the house I was renting I was moved to tears when I saw the sweet, delicate wreath that my parents had gotten for me in honor of this moment. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to me. It was so precious to me in the following year to be able to hang that same wreath above Ava’s crib when she was born. A secret reminder to me each time I saw it of the brother or sister she would never meet. It was a gentle acknowledgment, however, and exactly what I needed to help me on the road to closure.
The truth of the matter is that I’ve never forgotten about the first little miracle to occupy my womb, but it’s been easier to mentally pack it away in an imaginary box somewhere than to have to think about it too often. The white notebook paper today brought it all whirling back. I allowed myself to think for a bit about this baby. How blessed I was and the joy it had brought us- even briefly. It makes me smile to imagine that there will be a day I will get to meet this sweet baby I never got to hold.
For anyone who has experience this unfortunate moment in life, I am truly so sorry. I pray that you have each found peace and are moving forward. I want to encourage you to take the time to remember when you can, when you feel strong enough. Regardless of the amount of time you carried that child you were indeed a mother- mother still. We experienced a true loss. Loss is painful. It is not, however, a pain from which you can not recover. Family and friends were such a great source of strength for me. I hope you have found the same support. You have my prayers. In closing I’d like to offer hope. This happened to me 10 years ago. Today I have 2 healthy, happy, and loud children today whom I simply worship. The Lord hears the desires of our hearts. I promise you this, my friends.
This is my job
11 May 2012 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: finances, job, motherhood, Stay at home mom
I’ve been a gainfully employed citizen of this country since I was in junior high. My very first job was as a church camp counselor back in the mid-80′s when I was a member of First Baptist Church. I helped that summer being a leader for a group of kids and patiently saved my paychecks to purchase the end-all, be-all of the very pinnacle of electronics at that time- a contraption which was combination tape player/radio/tv. The television was black and white and the screen couldn’t have been anymore than 4″ X 4″. I’m pretty sure I was never able to successfully view one television program on that miniscule screen, but the fact was I had bought it with my own money! I was so proud.
I then had a job with a family friend at Eagle Fundraising helping to pack boxes for schools far and wide with merchandise for them to sell as fundraisers. This was proceeded over the next few years by several jobs in retail. I was in HEAVEN! I got to work at the mall, see all my friends, and got wonderful discounts on the latest fashions. A girl couldn’t ask for much for more. I loved every minute of it.
When Jess and I went away to college my parents actually requested that we not work so we could focus on our classes and homework. We obliged. After school I went into my degree field with a job at a local psychiatric hospital (LOVED IT!) and eventually moved back to Rogersville when I was offered a position as the director of a newly-opened Family Resource Center. That job was such a blessing. I loved working with local families and getting to be involved in any situation in which you see a need and are then able to see it met has always been very fulfilling to me. I think we are all here to serve one another in whatever capacity we can. Each of us have different gifts. I knew that helping people was a need of mine that I had always felt way down inside of me. These types of jobs generally aren’t very high paying (teacher, social worker, etc.), but most of us don’t go into them for the pay anyway. I was fortunate enough to stay in that job until I moved to Chattanooga in 2000. I worked as a case manager for the Crisis Intervention Team through the State of TN helping children/families who were currently going through the court system. It was challenging and emotional, but I found enjoyment in meeting those kids and getting to help steer them toward resources which could improve their quality of life. I’ve always just wanted to make a difference. It sounds corny, but it’s very simply true.
Fast forward to 2003. I was blessed beyond blessing to give birth to Ava Clair Silvers. It is worth mentioning that I am, indeed, one of those girls who has prayed for and hoped for and waited for my babies. I’ve always known that I would be a mother. I didn’t have little Miss Ava until I was 33 years old. I’d waited to be a mom hoping that I would be mature enough and ready. I’m not sure that I was ready even at 33, but she was coming and I was thrilled! At the time of my pregnancy I was living back in Rogersville and had taken a position as branch manager of a local bank. I loved that job and the people I worked with there. Kevin (husband) and I had discussed that after having Ava I would take the customary 6 weeks of maternity leave and then return to First Community Bank. I always liked being in the work force. It’s nice to make money and it’s nice to feel that sense of purpose. During my 6-week stay with Miss Ava, however, that sense of purpose quickly began to change. When the realization began to set in that I would be going back to work I just crumbled inside. I’d waited so long for this sweet, little one to come along and now am I seriously entertaining the idea of giving her over to another person for 40 hours a weeks so I can go back to the bank? Kevin saw my distress and he listened as I cried about my need to be with her, and then he did something I’ll always be thankful to him for. He came home one night and had printed off a spread sheet. He explained to me that it wouldn’t be easy and we’d have to make some serious budget cuts, but he believed that we could survive on just one income. I would be able to stay home and care for her. I was elated! Both Kevin and I had mothers who had stayed home with us when we were young and it was important to each of us that if our child could be given that same opportunity then she should have that same gift.
I will interject here that I know plenty of women who work. I think this is a personal decision and I don’t stand in judgment of what you as a wife or husband or mother or father decide for your own children. I think that’s your call. What I will say is that having a baby is the greatest of responsibilities. I don’t think one should take on this responsibility if one doesn’t feel they have the time or energy to invest in parenting. The double-edged sword in this whole scenerio is that until you actually HAVE a child you truly have NO CLUE of the emotional, spiritual, financial, and mental toll/blessing this situation is going to have on you. I’ve heard some women say, “I’m a better mom because I go to work.” I’m not so sure I personally subscribe to that theory. I think parenting is hands-on and involves a physical presence in your child’s life. For me, seeing my child 2 hours per evening before bedtime wouldn’t be enough. To me that’s like saying, “My husband and I have such a successful marriage because he’s a truck driver and he’s gone three weeks out of the month.” I get the point and I almost giggle at the joke in that, but if distance is what is required to make something “successful” then how “successful” can it truly be? Just my opinion… In what I’ve personally experienced in the last year I’ve gained a completely new respect for single mothers and fathers out there. My hat is off to you. It’s amazing to me that people have the energy to do this task alone. How lucky we are that God gives us as much strength as we need. He sustains us. Fortunately.
It’s been interesting to me during my years as a work-from-home mom (8 years now) that I’ve taken some pretty low blows and have heard a few comments from people who don’t understand or see the point in moms who stay home. I don’t have to write this blog, but after events of late I’ve felt compelled to. I’ve explained the beginning of how my decision started, how our decision started. Ava and Elijah and are my children. They physically came out of my body. I am the one who prayed for years for these babies before they were even conceived. I think this makes me the authority when it comes to making decisions for their lives. Just as any reader with children is the authority on making decisions for their own family. As a parent my first and foremost desire is the success, happiness, health, and well-being of my children. It is my job to make them feel safe and secure. It is my job to provide for their spiritual and emotional needs. I don’t take this task lightly. Any of you who know me know that I’m an active parent. I do things with my children. I don’t “parent” from the couch. I like to be in the floor and build Lego towers and Star Wars models with them. I like to play American Girl dolls and dress up Barbies. My children know I’m there for them. I take my children to the park and on bike rides and swimming. We canoe and fish and hike and go on nature walks. I enjoy active parenting. That’s what I do.
In recent event (process of divorce) several people have mentioned to me or my family on more than one occasion that “Amanda’s gonna have to get a real job”. The very thought that someone would feel bold enough to utter these words is mind-boggling, but each time I hear it I want to go into a 4-hour spill about this subject. Maybe I’ll just print off this blog and start handing it out when this happens. I would like to state for the record that I have a “real” job. My job at the moment is taking care of my children. I defy anyone out there to even attempt to tell me that they could love my children more or do a better job than I am. I’m the parent. They are my children. Our circumstances are in the process of changing drastically due to current events, but I feel strongly that as long as I am able to keep their little lives peaceful and normal and calm then that is what I will do- at any cost. At ages 7 and 8 I can’t even imagine what goes on in those sweet, impressionable little minds of theirs. I feel guilt on a daily basis because their father and I aren’t grown up enough to make a marriage work. It breaks my heart. My children are suffering because of adult stupidity and it’s gut wrenching for me. My job now is reassuring them that I’ll always be here for them. In their little worlds of so much upheaval I want to be able to provide some consistency. Why would I- how could I- up and leave my children NOW to get some menial job so that certain people in my life (outskirts of my life) will feel better? Ava and Elijah need me.
This past school year anytime one of my children has been sick I’ve been able to come and get them from school and keep them at home and be their nurse. Anytime one of my children has had a field trip and they want me to attend I’ve been able to go. Anytime one of my children’s teachers is having a class party and they need help I’ve been able to help out. These are some of the added benefits of being available to your children. I know some lucky women who have bosses who are flexible on such issues and give them time off for these types of events. You are so blessed! I’m proud of all the bosses out there who get it. My average day at home generally begin with getting two sleepy children out of the bed and dressed for school. We brush teeth and hair and have our breakfast. I take them to school and then return home to work at the house or run errands. Dishes are to be washed. Yard is to be mowed. Clothes are to be laundered. Bathtubs need to be scrubbed. Depending on the day and what’s going on I may be able to sneak in a lunch with a friend or a quick trip to my mom’s house, but before you know it it’s 3 p.m. and time to get kids from school. I pick them up, we generally have a snack, and then we take about an hour of down time and do whatever they’d like. We may watch a movie, ride a bike, play with the cats- whatever. Then it’s homework time. I put one child in the shower and the other sits with me and we complete the necessary assignments for that night. Then I switch kids- next one goes in shower, next one starts on homework. After showers it’s suppertime and we all sit and eat. After dinner, if weather permits, we will sometimes ride bikes or just walk downtown. My kids enjoy being outside. When we return home we’ll have a little more downtime and then it’s time to brush teeth and get ready for bed. We read stories before bed- actually now they read to me- then it’s time for prayers and everyone is tucked in. I’m thankful for the routine of our days. Sometimes it is the simplicity of that routine (and much prayer) which has kept my head above water.
Thankfully, I am not to the point yet where money has become a tremendous issue. Is there some struggle? Yes. Is there much readjusting which has to be done? Yes. My new little family of three, however, always has everything we need. We live (for now) in a lovely home and our utilities are paid. We always have food and the necessities. I’ve been blessed with family who will volunteer to meet needs of ours before I even speak a word. God has blessed me greatly and I’ll never forget such generosity- my mother, my sister and brother-in-law, my grandmother, and even sweet friends. The Lord has always provided for us and I have no doubt that He will continue.
What I’ve wanted to say to these busy bodies all along is this- When and if a day ever comes that I can’t meet the needs of my children financially I will do anything I have to do to fix that situation. I’m not afraid to work “a real job”. I’m simply not in that position at this time. I’d like to also tell them that until the day comes I approach you directly and ask you personally for a hand out, my financial situation is none of your business. I can assure you, I’ve approached none of them and I won’t ever. Let me do what I know the Lord has called me to do. I’m being a mother to Ava and Elijah Silvers. This is my job.
The Carolynn Chronicles, Volume 1- The Grounding (also titled, "Miss Smarty Pants and the Phone Snatcher")
10 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: funny, life, mother, phone, smarty pants
I had to begin with this story. This is without a doubt my all-time favorite “Carolynn” story. Classic Carolynn, if you will.
During the summer of 1988 my family decided to take a weekend trip to PettiJean State Park. PettiJean is a lovely part of NW Arkansas with breathtaking views. Mom and dad were going to take us there on a daytrip to enjoy a picnic and the scenery.
The Carolynn Chronicles- Introduction
10 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: funny, life, mother
I’m so excited to write this story! I have wanted for years to write about my mother. The task itself felt quite daunting and I’ve been hesitant to begin the process. My mother is a very special and complex woman. I must be sure that these little tidbits of my experience with her do the woman justice. For those of you who know my mother, you will hopefully laugh in recognition of the stories I will tell.
Cowboy Up
28 Apr 2012 4 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: cowboy, empowerment, faith, Strength
I had a conversation with a girlfriend the other day and she was lamenting about her romantic relationship. I told her that it was time for her to “cowboy up” and look at things a little differently. She very confusedly asked me what in the world “cowboy up” meant. She’s from Kentucky and apparently they don’t have many cowboys in Lexington. I explained to her that to “cowboy up” means to suck it up, man up, woman up, and move forward.
This specific conversation came to me later in the night and I had a revelation. I’ve spent the past 15 months not being able to cowboy up in my own life out of fear, weakness, and doubt. I knew that this isn’t who I want to be. I want to be the John Wayne of meandering through this life successfully and I learned a few things that I thought I would share. So, put on your cowboy hats and continue…
1. Life isn’t always fair. We all- every one of us- have those moments of “why me?”. We’ve all been cheated and disappointed by relationships, jobs, churches, illnesses, etc. We are never once in Scripture promised that this is going to be an easy ride. Our success in the ride depends on how we react and process when we are met with challenges. Buck up, cowboys.
2. Bad things happen to good people. At some point in our journey we are all going to be faced with loss. If all we do is focus on the bad, however, that is where we will stay… wallowing in our self-pity. This isn’t a concept I was really familiar with until the loss of my dad last year. I felt very cheated and robbed. I think God understands our sorrow and our crying out to Him. He feels our pain. We are His children and He doesn’t like to see us hurt. Just as I as a mother would open a can of whoop-A on anyone who wrongs my child, I believe that God wants us to sit back and let Him take care of all of the injustices that we face. He has our best interests at heart. We may not be able to clearly see the big picture from where we are sitting in the saddle, but we have to learn to trust that He is the ultimate leader of this crazy cattle drive and He will steer us all in the right direction if we allow Him to.
3. It’s time to start focusing on the positive. Sometimes that can be as simple as being thankful for the fact that we woke up this morning. In the time that you’ve spent reading this someone, somewhere in this world has experienced the loss of a loved one. We wake up, shower, eat our Cheerios, grab backpacks, and head out the door. Someone woke up today to the realization that a loved one is gone. Be thankful and grateful for what you have regardless of how trivial and mundane it may seem to you at the moment. There are people who would be happy to wake up to “normal” and “routine”. You don’t really grasp this concept until the day you wake up and your “normal” and “routine” is stripped from you. Trust me.
4. Rock bottom does not equal the end. Those days when you feel it literally takes all of your power just to get out of bed you must remember that things do not forever stay in a state of chaos. We all have to muster up the strength to press forward through those times and move ahead. I’ve often thought that I feel so sorry for those humans who chose to maneuver through the landmines of life without having God in the picture. Frankly, I don’t know how they do it. When all of my strength is zapped and I feel I can’t take another step it is beyond comforting to me to have the sweet assurance that He never leaves me and will always see me through those difficult times. How wonderful to be able to crawl up into His lap and just say “I’m weak. I need you.” I’m 42 years old and He has never failed me- not once.
There is no person who has a perfect life. I dare to say that there is no person who has an easy life. Life is what it is. It becomes what we allow it to be. You can choose to let it drag you down or you can cowboy up, dig your spurs in, and move forward. I, for one, chose to dig in those spurs. You can to. The reigns ultimately belong to God, and He’s given us the strength to press on. Grab hold. Dig in. Hold tight and prepare for the ride. In the words of Steven Curtis Chapman, one of my favorite Christian singers, “Saddle up your horses. We’ve got a trail to blaze.”
Giddy up, pardners!
The Power of “Beautiful”
17 Apr 2012 7 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: aging, beautiful, beauty, self-worth, women
“Beautiful” is defined by the Merrian-Webster dictionary as “having the qualities of beauty, exciting aesthetic pleasure”. As women in this society, sometimes unfortunately, beauty is something we all strive for in life. You can turn on the television and see any number of cosmetic commercials, facial cleanser commercials, exercise equipment commercials, and even find the toll-free number to contact your favorite plastic surgeon. Women in the media industry today are portrayed as young, thin things with flawless skin and not an ounce of cellulite on their bodies. We are programmed to believe that we must be beautiful to be popular, to succeed in life, to find a husband, to find the perfect job… I’m here to give a little different perspective.
I had an awakening to the importance of hearing the word “beautiful” a few months ago and it was something I had never even given a moment’s pause to I’m a little embarrassed to say. I’m a woman who is in the process of adjusting to a life without a man present. My mother is a woman who is in the process of adjusting to life without her man of more than 42 years present. A strange thing occurs. If you are a woman who has been fortunate enough to have a man (or woman) in your life tell you on a fairly consistent basis that you are “beautiful” or “lovely” then you go through the loss of that relationship and stop hearing those words it causes you to begin to wonder… Am I still that? It’s like the old expression about, “If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it does it still make noise?” If we stop hearing that we are beautiful does that mean we cease to be it?
I had a conversation with a girlfriend of mine and was expressing the pain I felt for what my mother was going through adjusting to life without my dad. I knew a certain amount of sadness and loss was involved- of course- but more so was worried that she had started making comments I wasn’t used to hearing this normally very confident, independent woman stating. My girlfriend said to me, “Your father was the man who for more than 40 years has told your mother that she’s beautiful. He’s gone now.” In that very instant my heart sank. I understood. We all want to hear it. The female, emotional side of us needs to be complimented. Even if we don’t admit it, we do. You can be having the worst day ever, but to be stopped and given a compliment can instantly change your mood for the better. I learned an important lesson that day.
My mother is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I know. Not only outwardly, but inwardly. As I’ve gotten older it’s funny to me how the outward, socially-acceptable definition of “beauty” has fallen by the wayside and given room to what I believe is the more important, substance-holding definition of “beauty”. In my teens I probably would have told you that a true “beauty” to me was someone who was fit, tan, had perfect teeth, and a lovely wardrobe. In the 80′s we had the beginning of the era of the “super model”. Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell, and Linda Evangelista were in practically every commercial, George Michael music video, and clothing ad that was in print or on television. They were the pinnacles to which we as mortal women were to fruitlessly strive for- perfect hair, perfect face, 24-inch waists, and a bust line which was surgery attainable. Now, an older and I hope much wiser Amanda would tell you that beauty is so much more about who we are at the very core of our being.
My mother gave the greater part of her life to contribute endlessly to the upbringing and well-being of me and my sister. She put her entire life on hold the moment she became a mother to invest every second she had to nurturing us into becoming the people we are today. I will forever be grateful and in awe of the dedication and time she devoted to us. I’m so blessed that this insight and understanding spilled over into me the day I became a mother. Our lives quickly stop being about “us” and immediately start being about ”them”. Just as it should be.
When I think of beautiful women that I know I can instantly see all of the females I have in my life. I see good mothers and teachers. I see women who strive every day to teach what they’ve learned and to make their little sections of the world a better place for their families to live in. I see counselors and educators. I see women who have made mistakes, learned from them, and moved on.
When I see my mother in her cutie-cute outfits, with her styled hair I tell her that I think she looks lovely. She is. I like to imagine that the torch of sharing that information was secretly passed from my father on to me. I adore the woman she represents. I think she is stylish and fun-loving, but what I see most when I see Carolynn is the beauty that radiates from her insides out. This woman has taught my sister and me the Word of God from the time we were children. We have seen daily examples in her life of how Christ is supposed to shine through us. One of my most memorable “Carolynn as a teacher” stories is when I was about 8 years old and we had gone grocery shopping at Safeway Grocery Store in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. A women in line in front of us was at the check out with her 2 little children and she was frantically counting out her change trying to pay for her milk. My mother recognized the distress this woman was feeling and quietly leaned over to her and said, “Let me buy your milk for you as a gift from Jesus. This is what He wants us to do.” That happened 34 years ago and I can still remember it like it was yesterday. What a life lesson it was to these young eyes. “Beauty” in the flesh standing before me perfectly demonstrating the love of Christ.
Proverbs 31:30
English Standard Version (ESV)
30 Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
1 Peter 3:3-4
English Standard Version (ESV)
3 Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— 4 but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.
As women we all want to feel beautiful, desired, and attractive. I won’t try to deny that. It would be dishonest to do so. I think it is important that we as women tell the other women in our lives that they are beautiful and not be afraid to give a compliment. However, I know there is a beauty which is much more important than the weight, or the wrinkles, or the crow’s feet that we all begin to worry about as we age. I feel that women who have learned the deepest definition of beauty when it comes to us as the female creature understand the little-promoted idea that what makes us truly beautiful isn’t a perfectly-symmetric face or eyes which are just the right color or distance from one another. These women have learned that how we love each other and treat other people and what we choose to do with our time here on this earth is what molds us into category of “beautiful”. I hope that as my daughter ages I can convey to her that outward beauty is fleeting, but it is the woman that we are inside- the woman that we nurture and grow- that actually has life-long value. That is the beauty I desire. I want to be a woman who is beautiful in that way just as my mother is.
The Easter Bunny
04 Apr 2012 5 Comments
When Elijah was in preschool I was asked one year to be the Easter bunny for the “Friends At Play” children’s Easter celebration. I laughed at the idea, but decided it would be fun and very quickly agreed. Elijah was the cutest little four-year old in his Easter shorts and shirt and so excited about the egg hunt that was planned for that day. I dropped him off at preschool and walked him inside, as normal, and then left to change into a huge, fuzzy, sweltering rabbit costume.
It was a perfect day outside. The sun was shining and the temperature was a lovely mid-70′s as opposed to the temperature inside that costume which was every bit the equivalent of being in the 9th level of hell. I waited off in a side room until I was given “the okay” by school staff and was taken around to each of the three classrooms to see the children. I wasn’t supposed to speak- bunnies after all do not talk- so I hopped and bounced and hugged and waved my hands about in excited shows of expression. Most of the kids were very excited about seeing the Easter bunny, but there were a few who seemed a bit overwhelmed by the fluffy white costume. I let them fall back behind their teachers and didn’t push my luck with them. I didn’t want to contribute to any undue childhood trauma which may result in a visit to a therapist in their adult years, but it seemed that as they watched and saw that the Easter bunny was harmless and just being silly and giving out hugs most of them came around.
Elijah’s was the second classroom that I came to. He’s always tried to be a brave little thing, but as his mamma I know that there are still a few situations that make him nervous. He watched me interact with a few of the other kids before he came to check out the Easter bunny for himself, but when he did he threw those little arms around my leg and squeezed out the biggest hug. I realize that I’m a little biased considering I carried this child inside me for 9 months, but honestly I don’t know a little boy with a sweeter heart and more love for his mother than my ‘Lijah. He makes me melt every time I see him and the words that come out of his mouth “I’ll miss you mamma” or “I love you mamma” have always made my heart full. (I love Miss Ava just as much, but this blog is about Eli. Ava will have her own story next.) 
I bent down and hugged him right on his level and it took everything I had inside me not to blurt out, “Eli, it’s ME! It’s your mom!” I knew I could never reveal this little secret. As long as my children still believe in these magical creatures I’m going to let them. I think it’s a fun part of childhood, one that I enjoyed as a kid, and I want them to get to have that experience. They are smart children and I know it won’t last long. Eventually the concept of Santa or the Easter bunny will melt away, but as long as they still have that little spark of “believe” in them I’m not going to extinguish it. I wouldn’t dare.
The Easter bunny, children, teachers, and several parent helpers all moved outside to prepare for the egg hunt. My job was to sit in a designated spot and each child would be brought to me and set on my lap to have pictures taken and included in an Easter card which each child was making for their parents. I sat, sweating away, in the huge fuzzy costume as each child was brought to me and our picture was made. It was interesting to me that this was the first time in my life I was in front of a camera for numerous pictures and I didn’t have to smile. When the first child was placed with me our photographer Susan said, “Smile for me!” and I smiled a big smile and then realized no one can see my face underneath this 20-pound bunny head! She was telling the kids to smile. I think during one point in the middle of taking pics with the second class of 4-year-olds I actually started making faces under my bunny head. Who was ever gonna know?!
When it was Eli’s turn to sit with me I wrapped my arms around him and he snuggled into me. He smiled a sweet smile and we had our picture taken. It was interesting to me that throughout the afternoon he would keep finding his way back to me. He’d hug me or sit with me more than any other child in his group did. One of the teachers even came up to me and quietly commented, “It’s almost like he knows it’s you in there.” This thought brought the biggest smile to my face.
As a parent you always want your children to know that you love them. I’ve never experienced love so full of meaning as I did when I first became a parent. There’s nothing to compare it to. In an instant you would give your life for this tiny creature you’ve just met, but it’s like your souls have a connection that is beyond explanation. I felt this other-worldly love with each of my children. Even when they were still inside my stomach I would talk to them and read to them and sing to them. What a tremendous gift motherhood is. Without a doubt my proudest accomplishment. I feel so blessed that God would allow me the privilege of watching over these two little ones during their time here on earth. I know what great responsibility comes with being charged in that role. I have thanked Him for allowing me to watch these two which from birth already belong to Him.
I would hope all through their lives both Eli and Ava will know beyond a doubt that the love I feel for them sometimes is so overwhelming I feel it could cause my heart to explode. I’ve made mistakes as a parent. I’ve learned through challenges that I’ve faced and that my little family has gone through, but the adoration and love I feel for these babies has always been a sweet constant in my life since their arrivals.
That day in the Easter bunny costume I realized that no matter what happens in life- no matter time or distance, harmony or dissention, me as me or me in a bunny costume- I always hope my children will know the love I have for them. I want them to feel it as something palpable. I hope they do.
Hear Me Roar
22 Feb 2012 13 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: Hear me roar, independence, life, relationship, women
Amanda Elder is about to PA-REACH! I’ve got a feeling this may be met with some resistance, but I welcome any and all comments- especially those of opposing viewpoints.
I had an experience this week which has caused me to stop and reflect. While sitting in an office discussing my impending (allegedly impending) divorce someone (who shall remain nameless) looked at me and said, “You know, Amanda, I’m not worried about you in all of this. You’re a good-lookin’ woman and you’ll find some man to take care of you.” Hmmmm. Quietly thought to myself, “really?”. Wonder what it is about you (still nameless person) that would cause you to believe for one moment that I would need- much less want- a man in my life to “take care” of me.
I was immediately taken back to three summers ago when I first drove myself to the local police station on a dark night to file an order of protection. No need for lots of details, but I was a mess- sobbing, crying, mascara running down my face. One of the gentlemen on duty that night, not meaning to be an insensitive jerk I’m sure, was helping me through the process of filling out the necessary paperwork. My hands were trembling and I was upset. He says, “Oh, honey, you’ll be just fine. Pretty girl like you will find someone else in no time.”
{Let me interject here that I thought strongly about leaving out the “pretty girl” and “you’re a good-looking girl” references for fear that people may think I’m trying to stroke my own ego, but I’ve left them in so that you will get the point and because this is indeed what was said. I’m not a vain person. Anyone who knows me knows that. Please remember that I’m the gal who won’t hesitate to run into Wal-Mart in no makeup and my pink, fuzzy pajama pants.}
Before those words had even finished dropping off his lips I remember feeling flabbergasted. Am I supposed to be thankful that some in the male race find me acceptable? Whew, good! (sarcasm) I’m decent looking so my life will go on. What happens to me if I’m homely looking? Is there no hope for my future if I can’t land a man? I know he was trying to be of some comfort to me, but come on now. I am crying because the man who is most supposed to love me in this world is being such a *&^% that I feel it necessary to take legal action against him. What about this scenario makes you think I’m secretly dying to find another man? Nope. I’m pretty set as it is. I think my “relationship cup” is just about full. I wondered if this horrific error in his judgment could be attributed to a “male” thing or just to a “stupidity” thing.
I recently had a friend tell me that although she was unhappy in her current relationship she couldn’t image leaving because she couldn’t be alone. Those were her words, “I can’t be alone.” My heart sank. Please understand, I’m not on a crusade trying to get all my friends to be single and burn their bras (although wouldn’t it be nice not to feel the pointy end of an underwire ramming into your ribcage like the foot of a 7-month-old fetus?). I would like to see the women in this world become empowered and to realize their own worth and their own strength. Depending upon another person for fulfillment and to find your worth is a dangerous place to find yourself. People aren’t perfect. They will let us down. Find your strength and value in something which is impenetrable and unshakable. Find your inner strength. (Cue a Whitney Houston song)
My mom and I were laughing today that just weeks after my father’s death well-meaning friends were encouraging her to “get back out there”. Dating. Seriously? This woman was married to this man for 42 years at the time of his death. Maybe it should cross people’s minds that some respect and attention should be given to this relationship which has just ended. Is it truly unthinkable that my mother isn’t burning with desire to go on a date with another man just 14 days after my father left this earth? Do you get my point? Not all of us find our importance and our meaning in a relationship with a man. She had to go through a time of adjustment. She still is. She’s allowed to be there as long as she needs.
I’m a fairly strong, independent woman. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. In marriage financial security is important, but I’d dare to say that emotional security- feeling love and respected- is equally if not even more important. It makes me so sad that men and women in this community/world think that in order for a woman to achieve true fulfillment in her life it must climax with her finding happiness in a relationship with a man. I’ll admit that I was one who probably grew up with these same feelings. It wasn’t anything that my parents instilled in me, but more so society. From the time we’re little girls we’re told stories of white knights on lovely horses who will sweep in during our hour of need (whether it’s being hypothetically locked up in a castle or being at the mercy of a wicked stepmother). These knights and heroes come charging in and rescue us from our problems. Then the story has you to believe that there will be a “happily ever after”. I do know some lucky men and women who have found that. I’m so thankful for them that they did. I believe if we are in touch with God when the decision comes to chosing a mate He will guide us in the direction we should go. Some of us, for one reason or another, still chose unwisely.
It’s not the issue of finding true love and happiness in marriage that I’m balking. It’s the idea of the man being portrayed as the “rescuer”. The only thing that Amanda Elder needs any rescuing from is herself. Bad decisions have been my weakness and it’s something I’m prayerfully working on. Will life pose challenges? Sure, but I’m fully ready and prepared to start this next part of my journey as a single mom. I’ve got more than enough on my plate with a 7 and 8-year-old to keep me PLENTY occupied. Trust me. I am also able to take great comfort in realizing that I’m not on this trip alone. My support system which starts with the Lord and beautifully trickles down through an amazing assortment of family, friends, and confidants is more than enough to help get me through. No rescue necessary. It’s already been taken care of.
When women meet someone and fall in love I’d like to think that it’s because they have realized their counterpart in another person. I’d like to think that Christ is the very foundation of that partnership and in turn He will bless the union. I would wish all women could realize their strength and their worth. What a dangerous place to be to feel that you can only find your value and worth if it’s attached to another person. Dangerous. People can disappoint us. Plant your foundation in something firmer.
I guess that’s the end of my rant. I wish people would think before they speak. If you see me on the street just know this- I don’t want to hear about this GREAT GUY that you work with or the friend of your cousin’s who you think would just be “perfect” for me. I’ve got this. When and if the time ever comes that I decide to give a relationship another try it will only be because the Lord has instructed me to do so. I’m listening to Him so deliberately that I’m not gonna leave even one inch of room for error. I truly mean it. Don’t worry for me. I’m stronger than you know. And ladies out there reading this, you are too.
Running Ahead (stop watching the clock)
20 Feb 2012 7 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: hope, life, peace, Running, Running Ahead, Stop watching the clock
My 9:30 a.m. meeting today served as an unfortunate reminder of my seemingly-neverending divorce. Let’s just say that I didn’t hear everything I had hoped. Details are unnecessary other than pointing out the obvious- a year is a mighty long time to wait not to have even had a moment of face time with a judge. Okay, we roll on…
I left that office discouraged beyond belief. I’ve been tough, trying to keep holding my head up. It gets challenging when it seems each turn is met with an entirely new maze of questions and complications. My diet is usually rather poor on the days of such meetings because my stomach is in knots. I met today’s challenge with a grand total of 1 banana and 2 Diet Cokes in my system. Not much of a help, I know.
Always in the midst of my sadness it is comforting to me to know that I have strong, Christian, supportive friends and family I can turn to for advice and words of wisdom. The moment I sat in my car the emotional support chain of command began. What I love most about the people in my life is that instead of them hearing the news I shared and all of us lying around in a puddle of crying and whining and feeling sorry about our situation(s) and lamenting about the woes of life and how unfair life can be, they are all such encouragers and problem solvers. One of my sweetest friends (who secretly kinda hacks me off because he completely messes up my theory that all men are pigs- lol!) begins telling me that I need to immerse myself in the Word and listen to God, that He will tell me what I need to hear. I was encouraged to read Psalm 37. Which I did. It was perfection. Encouragement from my Heavenly Father and a reminder that He’s still here with me. Two of my girlfriends who have been with me through this entire portion of the ride allowed me to vent my frustration and immediately said, “So what’s the next step?” Mom and Jess did the same. During times I feel like crawling up into a bed and throwing a huge blanket over me and never coming out I’m so appreciative that I have people in my life who won’t allow me to do that. Well, they may allow it if I fussed long enough, but I can assure you it would be a short-lived pity party.
I have children home from school today and also ended up watching my two sweet nieces. There I was in my living room- empty belly in knots, two kids complaining about who is on the wii and who should get to watch a movie, Bible pulled out onto my lap turned to Psalm and I’m reading. I’m praying- out loud- claiming all the promises God has shared through His Word. He has plans for my future-
Jeremiah 29:11
New International Version (NIV)
11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
I started to feel better. Sometimes when we read Scripture it’s a reminder to us of truths we already know. I don’t have all my answers yet, but at least I have my starting point. I’d cleared my head somewhat and the heaviness in my chest was beginning to lift. My spirit and my mind were being massaged and now I wanted to do more. I needed to get out to the track. I’m in week number five of a 9-week program to help prepare non-runners for a 5K. The first five weeks have been hard, but not impossible. There have been times I’ve hurt and wanted to stop, but I’ve not let myself.
I tell my oldest niece that I’ll be at the track for 35 minutes. She knows to call me if anything is needed and I head out. It’s a little chilly here today, but at least it’s not raining. I’m happy to get out there. I have only exercised one day this week- as opposed to my required three- due to snow, rain, or sick children. This session with the track was long overdue. In week five of the program you begin running in 5-minute intervals. From the offset five minutes of running doesn’t sound like much. If you’re not a runner by nature I’d encourage you to try it. The first day I did it (after four weeks of building up to it, mind you) I literally stopped twice on the track fearing that I was about to get sick. I fought through it though and within the next two days the five minutes of running became less daunting. So, I plug in my headphones, turn on my ipod, start my C25K program app on my phone and take off for the warm up portion of the session. I enjoyed those minutes of walking and listening to some good music. I felt myself relaxing as I got more into the groove of things.
Then the unthinkable happened- when my app switched over to the first session of running it instructed me that I would be starting with an 8-minute run. HUH?! Eight minutes is almost TWICE what I had just taken three days to build up to without vomiting. Surely today of all days this stupid computer app could understand that my world is legally, mentally and emotionally in a tailspin and should take it easy on me. I mean right? My initial thought was that I’d just shut the program off and walk for as long as I felt like it. I wasn’t sure my body or mind would even allow me to consider pushing myself. Then an unexplainable wave of peace fell over me. Of course this is possible. I found one of my favorite songs on the ipod and I went to it. Only this time I made a few adjustments. I focused solely on my breathing and my foot falls. I counted slowly in my head the one-two-three-four rhythm of the music playing against the sounds of my feet on the pavement. I changed something else- something vitally important- I stopped watching the clock. Instead of watching each second countdown as I had during my 5-minute run session earlier in the week I turned my attention to the task at hand and stopped worrying about the time. I’m still breathing and I’m putting one foot down…then the other. Before I even realized it my eight minutes was over and I was still standing! Shocking. Not only was I able to conquer the eight minutes once today but twice. That silly 5K program suddenly became a mirror-image of the rest of my life and there was nothing that was going to prevent me from finishing.
Interesting that I have been told on a few occasions recently that perhaps it would be beneficial to me to stop trying to foresee and map out the entire rest of my future when what I need to be focusing on is the task at hand. Stop focusing on the time. Stop watching the clock. Maybe it’s true that when we look to far ahead we lose sight of all of the important structural and foundational areas we need to be grooming today for the success of our future tomorrow. I know the Lord expects a lot from me especially when I’m expecting a lot from Him. I’m committed to delighting myself in Him- finding my way back into His Word and staying there- because I want Him to give me the desires of my heart (Psalm 37:4). Today that desire is simply peace. I know it’s an attainable goal.
The Greatest Love
14 Feb 2012 2 Comments
in Valentines Day Tags: John 3:16, love, salvation, the greatest love, Valentine's Day
I was tossing around the idea tonight of a pre-Valentine’s Day blog I wanted to call “All That She Wants”. It was to be a funny, but truthful reflection on what women truly want/need/expect from “love”. Then the sweetest thing happened… I decided that posting John 3:16 was a far better way to explain what true love is really about. My dear friend Melanie has posted a video which explains things as perfectly as my words could ever hope to accomplish. It is about 18 minutes, but I’d guarantee the best 18 minutes you’ll spend all day:
See, when we think of “love” so often we default to the earthly definition that it must involve two people in a romantic relationship with one another. As we all know those relationships have many highs and lows. Love is so often defined and weighed by feeling and emotion. There is one love, however, which is unwavering in its dedication, its commitment, and its magnitude.
If I could send anyone a Valentine’s Day gift today this would be it- please be aware of the purest and most important love you will ever have the privilege of knowing in your lifetime. The love of Jesus Christ never fails us and it has been here since the beginning of all creation.
John 3:16 states “For God so loved the world (that’s us) that He gave His only begotten Son (that’s Jesus) that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”
There is no valentine more important. For the people in my life who know me, I hope you know the greatest romance in my life is the one I have with my Lord. It’s easy to get caught up, just like the people on that train, in the daily stressors of life and to lose sight of the relevance and importance of the gift He gave to us- so freely, so without merit on our part. God sent to us His ultimate sacrifice so that we could live in the true fullness of life as He intended it.
I’ve been guilty of allowing life/relationships/pressure to take precedence over the one fact which I know in all certainty to be true- we are here to lead others to Christ. We must be a living testament to the power He has in our lives and to show the world what a difference Christ makes in us. I encourage each of us today, sure, tell your loved ones how much they mean to you, but there’s a greater calling here- we must tell the world of God’s love for us as demonstrated to all of us through the sacrifice of Jesus. I would encourage each of us today to take a moment and talk about Him and the gift of salvation to those in our lives who may not know- or who may have lost sight of it. Pray that God will give you opportunity to speak to friends and strangers alike about the importance of knowing God personally. I promise that if you pray it He will bring it to you. He wants to lay those opportunities at our feet. We simply have to be willing to do it.
If you’ve never talked to others about Jesus and the gift of salvation just start with John 3:16. You don’t have to be a biblical scholar to share the news of this gift. Thank you to Melanie for helping to put that into perspective for me tonight. Thank you to each of you just for reading this. I believe in doing so God is commissioning you to act in His purpose.
Happy Valentines Day 2012. Welcome to the greatest love the world has ever known.
Commander-in-Chief, Manda's Wonderland
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