Queen for a day

My poor sister is hospitalized again with pancreatitis. No one knows why she got it the first time, or the second. I did a little research into causes and one cause is kawasaki disease. This is probably an unsatiated longing for motorcycles, though I didn't look up the definition on that one. Anyway, all you praying types, if you would pause a moment to pray for Amy, I would sure appreciate it. Amy is the funniest, kindest person I know and it will be a bummer if we discover that that is what is causing her pancreatitis.

So while Amy was suffering in the hospital, I was with my family that made me queen for a day on Mother's Day. They made my meals, cleaned the kitchen, took me shopping and out to eat the day before, made me lovely cards, and then told me we could do whatever I wanted with our day. I had been waiting for this opening. I had been begging for a year to go do the whole new Riverwalk in Fort Mill. It is along the Catawba river and starts at the spot where I hope to launch the kayaks this summer. Then the river races down 3 miles to River Park where we would disembark. I have been longing to walk the route along the Catawba to decide if this would be dangerous to the point of death, or just to the point of foolishness.

My family calls my love of hiking in nature "forced marches." I believe, in fact it was Amy, the same Amy groaning in the hospital right now, that coined that phrase to describe me. It stuck. I have a difficult time urging the rest of my family that walking all day in the sunshine along a river is as wonderful as playing Mario Cart and eating gummy worms. But yesterday I was offered carte blanche the activity of my choice.

It was as beautiful and peaceful as I had hoped. The river ran fast and high, and already there were kayakers on it. We decided that should I run into problems kayaking it in the future, the trail stays along the route nearly the whole way, so I could conceivably drag my body out of the water, and stumble to the trail for help if needed. Oh sure, I might need to battle moccasin snakes or venomous copperheads, and copses of poison ivy, and maybe on a really bad day a rabid fox to crawl up the steep bank and thick vegetation to reach the trail. It was not preferable, but it was doable if necessary.

At one point on the trail, there were 4 carved seats in logs, side by side. The seats looked like thrones, with a high curved back. There was a large throne, a medium throne, a small throne, and a baby throne. I sat on the throne, the medium one, overlooking the sparkling Catawba. The weather could not have been more lovely, and my family was treating me the way I wish I could be always treated. I sat on my throne, Queen for a day.

"I wish every day was mother's day," I sighed. This was a selfish thought, but at the moment I didn't know my poor sister was in the hospital wishing Mother's Day would end with a cocktail of strong pain killers.

That's the problem with this world. It isn't perfect. If one corner is perfect, almost for sure the adjacent corner is wrinkled.
"But then you would need a special super Mother's Day because you would get used to every day being Mother's Day," said Asherel.
And she's right. Here on earth, everything is relative. For Amy, I'll bet cleaning toilets without pain sounds like a pretty special day right now.

As I reflected on this, I thought of the series on Ecclesiastes our pastor is preaching this month. Solomon understood all this. He found that there was nothing under the sun that was permanent, nothing that was not infused with futility, no pursuit of man  that would ultimately satisfy. But he did see that the best one could do was to look upon everything as a gift of God to be enjoyed for a season.

And know that all things would have their day, but that day would end. It is true lamentably for Mother's Day, and joyfully for Pancreatitis.

Psalm 16:6-8

 ⁶The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.
 ⁷I will bless the LORD, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night seasons.
 ⁸I have set the LORD always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.

The Kentucky Derby and Mothers

I love that the Kentucky Derby and Mother's Day are often (maybe always?) the same weekend. Raising a Derby winner and raising a child are not that dissimilar. You have to treat both with gentle but firm guidance, breaking bad inclinations, but not the spirit. You must train them to use their God-given talents, but know they can't just run wild. They must be taught to run with control, and to go the distance.

If you give them their head, they will run themselves to the ground before they hit the first corner. If you hold them in too tightly, they will be left eating the dust of the pack. You want the very best trainer money can buy to guide them through their education, and you want the race to be jockeyed (accompanied) by someone with experience, gentle hands, fearless instincts, and a desire to win.

The best mother knows all this. It is surprising there are not more women Derby trainers and jockeys. I was rooting for the horse with the woman trainer this year. The woman had been in the hospital, with about a week to live, when she had a heart transplant and a new lease on life. The horse had been born ostensibly dead. As the trainer watched sadly, the foal suddenly breathed, leaped to his feet and ran.

That horse placed third yesterday, which all in all, is pretty amazing given the history. I think it would have made a better blog if the horse had won, but another long shot won instead, and I am sure he had a compelling story of his own. We all do.

My favorite mother would have been a good horse trainer if she weren't afraid of horses. She knew to give us freedom and trust us even when we didn't deserve it, so when we were in the race, we would know how to run responsibly when we couldn't hear her voice. She knew that reining us in now and then prevented broken legs and maybe a few broken hearts, and that the race is not always to the swiftest, but to the determined. She knew to let us follow our passions and let us discover our limits, while being sure we had fresh hay in the manger and soft straw in the stall when we limped home discouraged and weary.

To all those wonderful mothers out there training their foals for the Big One, you are doing the most important job on earth.  And for this mother, this often stumbling, bumbling but so hopeful mother, I cling to the One who has eyes wide enough to watch my babies as they run off to races I can't accompany them upon.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.


Proverbs 22:6
 ⁶Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.