I had a birthday, week before last. I turned 55 and we need to talk, ladies. 

Birthdays have never bothered me, really. I’ve always taken them in stride. So far, the numbers aren’t that bad, so I proudly state my age when asked and hold my head high. Sure, there have been outward signs of the passing years. We talk about those all the time around here. The inability to remember what I’m doing in the middle of doing it. The various things that have started to droop and lose elasticity. The constant struggle to keep my goatee at bay. Yeah, there’s been all that, but something happened to me at 55 that I’m not liking one bit. The weird thing is that it started almost exactly on my birthday as if it had my birthday on its calendar. Like one of those dashboard lights that comes on in your car at a set time. Things just started happening about four days before my birthday and they’ve been happening ever since. I’m speaking of night sweats and sleep disturbances. 

To my older readers- ya’ll didn't tell me 55 was the age your hormones hand in their notice. Or more like quit on the spot, grab their purse, head to their car, and not even finish out the day. A little heads up would’ve been nice. Please, send tips. To my younger readers, take 55 and subtract your age and that’s about how long you have left for fun and games. I had a partial hysterectomy, a few years ago, but my hormones were still going strong- until that fateful weekend before my birthday. 

That weekend, it was like my subscription to estrogen expired. You know how it is when your six month complimentary subscription to Sirius runs out in your new car? One day, you’re jamming to the 80’s on 8. The next day- static. I didn’t receive a notice informing me that my hormonal service agreement was about to run out. I didn’t get a courtesy call reminding me to make other arrangements. I didn’t receive a letter offering any sort of extension. No, they just cut me off without any warning. I visualize some burly, sweaty guy with a wrench from the water department who came in the night to shut off the valve. 

I’ve started waking up a couple of times a night. Around 1:00 and again at 5:00 and I can’t go back to sleep for a while. I’ve heard my friends speak of this, but I’ve always quietly listened and thought, “Well, bless your heart.” I couldn’t relate to those tired and frustrated souls. Sleep has been a skill at which I’ve excelled, my entire life. God gives us all gifts, you know. Slumber is mine. Even before my birth, my mother became concerned and visited the doctor because I rarely moved. Even then, I was honing my skills in the womb, so it really busted my bubble when this started. 

I’ll get up to get water or go to the restroom and, before I can get back to sleep, my mind is swirling and I stay awake for an hour or two thinking random and free-flowing thoughts. Not the kind of thoughts you’d expect a mother to have in the night- worries about the children, the moral decay of society, the kind of world the next generation will be left to traverse. No, the random thoughts I’m talking about are not unlike those a person under the influence of drugs might have. An inner voice starts- “There are some things we need to ponder before you go back to sleep. Tonight’s topics will include- The striking resemblance of your new postman to Jim Cantore. A complete analysis of a conversation you had in 1997. Are brussel sprouts really just baby cabbages? Did you or didn’t you remember to lock the back door? Liquid detergent vs pods. And we’ll close our session with the theme song to The Love Boat and you won’t be able to get it out of your head for, at least, an hour.” 

Then I wake up a couple of more times a night and I think the bed is on fire. I’m certain that there’s no way I could be that hot and the bed not be on fire. Or maybe it was on fire and I slept through the firemen putting it out because I’m drenched. Sweating all over like I ran a marathon and then went straight to bed. And I also find myself asking the same question over and over to random people- “Is it hot in here?” So, let me just say ahead of time that this summer will not go well. I will not be ok. Y’all check on me. Which brings me to a product recommendation for you if you, too, suffer from spontaneous human combustion. I got a Dreo fan for my birthday and it has been a lifesaver! It has a remote control, 4 speeds, swivels, oscillates, and the highest speed produces wind gusts of up to 100 mph- which is likely what had me thinking of Jim Cantore at 1:00 am. Your sheets will be flapping in the wind. It’s the coolest fan I’ve ever had- hands down! In case you’re interested, here it is on Amazon. Between it and the Woozoo fan, this one had much better reviews. I know there’s someone out there who needs this information. 

Well, we were supposed to have fun and talk about lighthearted topics today, but we’ve had a tragedy to happen in our town, this week. The worst kind. A child was killed in an accident. Whenever there’s something like that, I don’t feel right about going on with business as usual. Our town is a deeply connected place. The young boy was related to my sister-in-law. I’d never met him, but he was obviously very loved and I can’t imagine what his family must be feeling. 

We don’t get things like this. We can struggle and eventually come to grips with losses that occur later in life but, when death comes to claim life in its earliest and most innocent stages, well, we don’t do so well with that. There’s just no way to make it seem ok. We clumsily stumble with our words because there simply are limits to our language. There are thoughts it can’t envelope and pains it could never encase. There are just no words strong enough to hold up under the weight of some feelings.

Our world is full of situations that leave us speechless. It’s nothing new. Lately, I’ve been feeling the word Paul used long ago, perplexed. Perplexed about a lot of things. Synonyms of perplexed are addled, confused, disconcerted, puzzled, baffled, at a loss. At a loss might be the one I’ve used most. News headlines, tragedies, sicknesses, persecutions, inhumanities, lawlessness, injustices. The stories are coming fast and furious at us as we walk around with technology in our hands. After a while, we can start to feel kind of numb- like we’re unable to do much besides sit and let them ricochet off of us. And maybe wonder when something is going to hit close to our home. 

But, there’s the next part of the verse. “We are perplexed, but not driven to despair.” Other translations- “but we aren’t depressed”, “but we don’t give up.” Not everything will make sense to us on this side of heaven. Goodness knows it doesn’t. I’m certainly not adequate to try to tackle the theology of why things happen like they do. All I know is Jesus promised us there would be trouble in life. He wasn’t kidding about that. “But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) He wasn’t kidding about that either. “Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.” (Romans 8:18) In the meantime, we keep lifting each other up, helping where we can, sharing the hope of Christ, and holding onto the promises of God. 

God, be near the broken-hearted. 

JONI 

I was 26 years old and had been married for a couple of years. I was pregnant again after having a miscarriage. We’d decided not to find out the sex of the baby, so we had a boy and a girl name picked out and both clothing options ready for coming home from the hospital. It was a Sunday, about a week before my due date, when I started having contractions. 

Davis and I had taken the childbirth classes offered at the hospital- the ones where they teach you to breathe through the pain. Yeah, well, that doesn’t work. It was still the 1900’s, so they played a VHS movie on the VCR of what happens during birth. Davis’s eyes bugged out as he ate his complimentary refreshments of cookies and lemonade from the cafeteria. I’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting from cover to cover. I knew what was supposed to be happening and when. I had a list of instructions from the doctor’s office and a checklist of how to know when it’s time. I knew the criteria for heading to the hospital and we weren’t quite there yet. 

So, we walked around the neighborhood. Somewhere, I’d read walking could speed things along. So, we walked and walked. All afternoon. Finally, my water broke all over the bedroom floor and our time of departure was no longer a mystery. I’d never seen Davis move so quickly. Or drive so fast. 

The pain was getting intense and I rode to the hospital knowing that I was about to become a mother, but I had no idea what that really meant. Yes, I expected sleepless nights. Yes, I knew my day to day routine would change. Yes, I knew there would be added expenses. But, I was only aware of facts I had read in black and white. 

Sunday turned to Monday and a lot of drugs made it all a blur. You might even say I was as high as a kite at that point. At 3:03 a.m., the doctor announced we had a girl and, after just a couple of hours of sleep, they brought her to me. Some of the drugs had worn off and I was starting to feel less fuzzy. That’s when it happened. I was able to hold my daughter for the first time. 

I studied her perfect face and ran my fingers through her thick, brown hair. I pulled her little foot out from the blanket and studied it carefully. I traced her ears with my fingertip and spoke her name softly- the one I’d had picked out since I was 12. Her eyes met mine and they told me she’d been waiting to put a face with my heartbeat. My breathing. My voice. This little person I’d just met had already taken complete possession of my heart. It was in an instant with no fanfare or warning or fuss. It just happened. In that very moment of time, I would’ve died for the tiny soul I’d only known a few minutes and I had no explanation for it except I was her mother.

Ever since that day, her joys have been my exhilaration. Her disappointments have been my greatest frustrations. Her dreams have been my deepest longings. If you want to see my face light up, let her walk in the room where I am. Her accomplishments are my purest form of delight. Her celebrations feed my soul. Kind words spoken of her are the most beautiful sound to my ears. Her sadnesses have been my deepest sorrows. And I’m never quite as happy as when she’s elated. The very same is true for Carson, of course. They are extensions of me. What they feel, I feel. Maybe even more deeply. This was the part I didn’t know about when I left for the hospital that day. This was the part they don’t cover in any of the books. They can‘t teach it in any class. You find it out soon enough on your own. For the rest of my days on earth, the lift of their joys and the weight of their disappointments will continually be tipping the scales of my heart one way or the other and I’m completely and utterly helpless to change that. I have no explanation for it except I am their mother. 

There is nowhere motherhood wouldn’t go. Nothing it wouldn’t sacrifice. No solution it wouldn’t try. No possession it wouldn’t give. No amount of time it wouldn’t invest. Nothing it wouldn’t do without. No place it wouldn’t look. No hurdle it wouldn’t clear. No job it wouldn’t tackle. No odds it wouldn’t try to beat. No discomfort it wouldn’t endure. No price it wouldn’t pay. No chance it wouldn’t take. And there is no explanation for it except for the love of a mother. 

I realize thoughts of motherhood can take us all to a million different places. The highest peaks of joy and love. The lowest valley of sadness and longing. There’s a most beautiful side to it and another one that has more jagged and painful edges. I’m not sure what this holiday will look like for you. Wherever you find yourself this Mother’s Day, I pray that God will meet you there. 

If your Mother’s Day is spent missing someone you loved deeply, may He pull you close to Him in your grief. If the day digs up regret and second guesses, may you feel God’s warm grace covering you. If it is clouded with worry and uncertainty, may God quiet your mind. If the day is a reminder of your disappointment and unfulfilled dreams, may He give you the gift of peace and contentment. If it stirs up memories of pain and hurt, may He help your heart forgive and move forward. If the day is greeted with physical and mental exhaustion, may God grant you renewed strength and focus. If it is filled with love and joy, may He receive your gratitude all day long. If it is riddled with questions of why, may He satisfy your mind with His answers and promises. If the day emphasizes your loneliness, may God sit near you and keep you company. If it’s brimming with admiration and appreciation, may He give you the words to express it. If the day presents the opportunity to help another woman get through her difficult version of Mother’s Day, may He help you seize it.

However you spend your weekend, I do hope it’s full of love. 

There’s been so much going on, lately. May is always like that. We’ll talk again next week. About things like birthdays and mammograms. 

Y’all have a wonderful weekend! 

JONI