How Wednesday Got to be the Best Day of My Week

I think I will forever be very conscious of the fact that from about the age of 11 to 15, I was really horrible to my mother. There were influencing factors, of course, but responsibility for my actions still lies squarely with me. I know I was mean and petty and hurtful and I still grieve those choices.

When I was 15 we were living in Russia, and I was being horrid to my family. My dad took my brother and I on a trip from St. Petersburg, where we lived, to Odessa, on the Black Sea. It took 3 full days by train and that journey is still pure magic in my mind. I hope I never forget the golden light on the quivering aspens, as long as I live.

In Odessa we worked at a cultural and spiritual conference and I met kids there whose parents were doing the same work as my parents, in different cities all over the former Soviet Union. When we had worship time I would watch those kids out of the corner of my eye. They were into it. It meant something. It moved them. It was in getting to know those kids that I decided to live a life of faith.

When I decided to try to follow Jesus, changing my attitude towards my parents was one of the first things that I made an effort to change. It was slow going, but I really made a sincere effort. At 19 I got married and moved to Holland with The Captain (with my parents' blessing). By that point I think a lot of the damage to my relationship with my parents had been undone, but not a lot of further progress had been made. I spent my high school years trying to dig my way out of the hole created by my poor choices.

When we returned to Nashville later, in 2001, only expecting to stay until I finished school, I decided to commit my time in Nashville to building a relationship with my parents. And when, in 2005, we adopted Small Sun, we made it a clear priority to cherish the time we had with my parents before we would move on from Nashville. 

Everyone knows the scripture from Deuteronomy 5:16:

"Honor your father and your mother, as the LORD your God commanded you, so that your days may be long and that it may go well with you in the land that the LORD your God is giving you.”

I guess since it talks about your days being long, I had this idea that you do what your parents want while they are alive, and then you get to do things your way after they've passed. Morbid, I know! I think I also read "honor" as "obey" which can have a loss of personal power as part of its connotation.

Even as I made the decision to honor my parents, I did it because it was the "right" thing to do. The thing that God would want. In reality, I didn't expect it to benefit me much.

When we adopted Small Sun my mom dedicated Wednesdays to be a day she came to help me. The initial idea was that I would run errands, do the shopping, or get some "me" time, while she watched Small Sun. I found myself hesitant to leave. On Wednesdays we talked without distraction. On Wednesday my mom would bring a ripe avocado for sandwiches, or a perfect cookie she'd saved for me, or some other little treat. Each and every Wednesday I was assured of my mother's love and care for me. It was on Wednesdays that I really got to know my mom.

From time to time we'd "reassess" if Wednesday help was still necessary. I got my feet under me as a new mother. My need for practical assistance wasn't as great, but Wednesdays carried on. Small Sun grew, I grew with The Sprout, then I needed help in earnest with two under two years old! But whether I left the house or stayed, Wednesdays became the best part of my week.

Now, 13 years into my walk of faith and 8 years into my commitment to grow a meaningful relationship with my parents, I am surprised at the results. The blessing that comes as a result of honoring my parents isn't some future promise. I am living it now.

I never really understood how some people stayed in their hometown their whole lives, or even lived next to their parents! Now I realize the gift of a Wednesday mother is so precious, and raising my children near their grandparents is trumping nearly every desire on my life list.

I believe it is the supreme kindness of God for me to experience such a change. So on this Mothers Day I want to thank my mom for waiting for me to come around, and for being there for me when I did. Wednesdays will never be the same again.

Comments

[quietstream]

Wow! I continue to be in awe of the power of words! They can shift and change nations; they can shift and change the very atmosphere of our lives. This entry evokes healing, tender reflection, and simultaneously, extreme gratefulness.
I am so grateful for grace, for the opportunity that we each (myself so very much included) have in life to repent, forgive, to keep on growing, and changing; grateful for the fact that those rocky days were eclipsed long ago by good times beyond counting; grateful for all the seasons of life that lie before us, because love's harvest is unending . . .
I especially love your closing thought: "I believe it is the supreme kindness of God for me to experience such a change." In those words lies the essence of the entire gospel. Thank You for this beautiful post.
And I just realized I just read this and am writing back on----Wednesday! =D I raise my bowl of cereal in tribute to Wednesdays, and propose that we find a way to preserve this great tradition !! XO

[Lori]

Oh, my. I just breezed through post 1 and post 2 and when I got midway through this post, I slowed down. By the end, I was in tears. So beautiful. So, so beautiful.