Before I step into this post, I would like to point you to Julie Clawson's blog, where she has compiled a list links to everyone who participated in today's International Women's Day Synchroblog. I would love to say I have time to read and comment on all the beautiful posts that everyone has put so much time into, but I was away all weekend and have too much to catch up on now. I do want to hug you all, to send love your way, for taking time out of your lives to speak on this subject.
I had signed up to participate in the synchroblog, but I didn't. Last week I knew it was approaching, and I put a good deal of thought into it, but failed to find any inspiration to get a post written. Then, Wednesday evening, the opportunity came up for the kids and I to go to the coast with my mom for the weekend. While busy catching up on laundry and packing, the synchroblog received nary a thought. Saturday night it did occur to me, but I was away and it was too late. Still, I don't want it to slip by without a mention.
I might not be writing on women of the bible or how to aid the lives of women in third-world nations. However, in the scope of my own life, what I have to say is no less important. I spent this weekend with my mom, who could have easily died a month ago, with a new appreciation for what it means for her to be my mother, and for I to be her daughter. No less, with my boys, I couldn't help but think about what it means for me to their mother. Three generations spent the weekend together, doing nothing in particular other than looking at the ocean, swimming in the pool, and watching tv, together. A weekend spent in mother and daughter relationships.
It was a simple thing, not seeming too profound or extraordinary. So often, we don't stop long to give a thought to the value of being female. We bear a host of responsibilities, we nurture and love in a priceless way. We alone have the ability to bring life into this world. We raise up that life, watching it grow into adulthood, and step into their own parenting roles.
We bring continuity to the human race, the circle of life, the passing on of mother/daughter/mother...and on into infinity. It is the beauty of perpetuity, and the grace our Father-Mother in heaven has bestowed upon us as women, wives, mothers, and lovers. This weekend, it didn't escape my attention.
I had signed up to participate in the synchroblog, but I didn't. Last week I knew it was approaching, and I put a good deal of thought into it, but failed to find any inspiration to get a post written. Then, Wednesday evening, the opportunity came up for the kids and I to go to the coast with my mom for the weekend. While busy catching up on laundry and packing, the synchroblog received nary a thought. Saturday night it did occur to me, but I was away and it was too late. Still, I don't want it to slip by without a mention.
I might not be writing on women of the bible or how to aid the lives of women in third-world nations. However, in the scope of my own life, what I have to say is no less important. I spent this weekend with my mom, who could have easily died a month ago, with a new appreciation for what it means for her to be my mother, and for I to be her daughter. No less, with my boys, I couldn't help but think about what it means for me to their mother. Three generations spent the weekend together, doing nothing in particular other than looking at the ocean, swimming in the pool, and watching tv, together. A weekend spent in mother and daughter relationships.
It was a simple thing, not seeming too profound or extraordinary. So often, we don't stop long to give a thought to the value of being female. We bear a host of responsibilities, we nurture and love in a priceless way. We alone have the ability to bring life into this world. We raise up that life, watching it grow into adulthood, and step into their own parenting roles.
We bring continuity to the human race, the circle of life, the passing on of mother/daughter/mother...and on into infinity. It is the beauty of perpetuity, and the grace our Father-Mother in heaven has bestowed upon us as women, wives, mothers, and lovers. This weekend, it didn't escape my attention.
9 comments:
Erin I'm glad you had a good weekend with your Mom and the boys. You were certainly in a beautiful location. It is so true that we often don't stop long enough to think about what it means to be female.
I hope you don't mind but I've added your post to my synchroblog role as I think it should be there.
e- I didn't realize your mom was going to go with you. How awesome! I'm so glad you had that time- for both of you.
I think it's wonderful that you connected with your family- that's probably more important than anything your could write! :)
Thanks Lyn, we had a nice, simple time. It was beautiful, especially on Friday.
Yes you can add me to your list if you think you should.
I hope you have a wonderful birthday! It's my husband's birthday, too.
I guess I didn't tell you that, Cindy. It was a nice time, especially since last month we were supposed to go but didn't because of her illness, it was nice that she was able to go.
Thanks Aphra. I hope you guys aren't slipping and sliding too much up there! It's snowing here today...weird!
Happy Birthday Randy! Someone else who shares a birthday with Barbie!
Your post evokes feelings of contentment in me. Yesterday I had dinner with my mom and helped her with her computer. I don't remember hearing her describe herself as "an old lady" before. I hadn't noticed how grey her hair is. Denial on my part. She is 70-something, so it shouldn't be any surprise.
It's so strange for me to want spend time with her. Now, for the most part it's because I kind of enjoy her company, mainly because I want her to feel loved, and only a little because of a sense of duty. 20 years ago it would have been entirely out of a sense of obligation. It's interesting how time can have a way of making me appreciate the value of family, even a somewhat dysfunctional family.
You're right in saying time brings a sense of appreciation and contentment. I know I didn't begin to believe my parents knew anything until I was about 30. Today, they know more than ever.
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