a praying mama: update
My feet are sore. That’s what happens when a 50-year-old wearing high-heeled boots dances the night away. I wasn’t just dancing with my feet. I was dancing inside.
A few weeks ago I shared an interview with my friend, Mickey. Her son, Austin, got involved with meth around the age of 20 and he sank deep into addiction and eventually robbed his own parents. Mickey gathered other moms together and began to pray every Tuesday night. The group eventually became known as Moms of Prodigals. It refers to the Bible story of the son who lost his way, and was welcomed back to his father’s home and love.
She fought when it appeared there was nothing that could be done. She fought when people who loved her like crazy didn’t know what to say to comfort her. She fought when people said things like “just have faith” when her whole life was wrapped around faith. Taking one second, one minute, one hour at a time.
It was spiritual warfare — a term we don’t talk about much in circles like these because it can be misunderstood or taken out of context, but what I saw was a mom who was willing to pray, and then pray some more for a few years, in spite of what she saw or felt or experienced. It was a complete act of trust.
Hundreds of you responded that day, many sharing your own stories. I’d love to share this update with you.
Last night Austin stood on the platform as his bride, Alyson, walked down the aisle. She was beautiful. Austin was smiling so big it didn’t seem possible to keep it up, but he did.
Mickey sat on the front row, her smile just as large as Austin’s.
He’s been clean for three years now. He’s returned to the person she believed he could be –who he was. It wasn’t an easy process, and there was a lot of heartache along the way. But in the end Austin and God had an encounter and God welcomed his prodigal son back into his arms.
So I was dancing to the cool music. Retro. Funky wedding music. Even a conga line (congo? conga?). But I was dancing on the inside for my friend, Mickey.
Her son had come home, and now she had not only a man of God, but a beautiful new daughter-in-law who loves God, and Austin like crazy.
At the end of the service, when it was time to kiss the bride, Alyson threw one fist in the air, pumping it as she turned to kiss her new husband.
Joy, joy, and more joy.
I just love happy endings.
Maybe you are a mom whose son or daughter is making destructive choices, and you just don’t know what to do. Let me — us — pray with you today.
Posted by Suzie @
6:28 am |
happy birthday, baby
December 3, 2009 | family
She’s 28 today. She’s beautiful, blond, smart, and she’s a woman, not the little blue-eyed girl I held in my arms at 5:41 a.m. on December 3, 1981.
I talk about Leslie a lot when I speak. She’s the little miracle I held in my arms as a young mom, unsure if I even knew how to be a mom. All I knew is that I didn’t want to mess up this opportunity.
When I look at Leslie I see answered prayers. She never knew the chaos that I did as a child, but that’s such a small part of the miracle. It’s seeing what God can do in the life of a young, tender hearted woman who just wants to make a difference.
As a baby she was born with some special needs — her feet were all messed up and she had surgeries, casts, and lots of extra care needed.
As a woman she’s gentle, but also fierce. Her heart is to one day be a judge, a dream she’s had since she was a girl in middle school. It was fun watching her grow, hanging on to her dreams, working through college, then law school, then walking across the stage to receive her diploma, and then working even harder to pass the bar exam. Through every step she sacrificed, and I know there were hard times, especially financially because we simply didn’t have what it took to send her through law school.
Today she’s an attorney. I don’t know what her future holds, but I admire her as a woman. As a friend. As my daughter.
She’s beautiful, inside and out.
When I prayed that prayer 28 years ago — “Lord, just help me love her and be a good mom, because I’m not sure how” — I had no idea the rich blessings that she would bring to my life. She’s made me laugh until I cried. She’s reached for my hand while we walked together, that simple act of affection such a part of who she is. She’s made me think, challenged me on issues that she cares about, and she’s been an amazing gift from God.
Happy birthday, baby. I love you like crazy. Being your mom is one of the best gifts God ever gave me.
Posted by Suzie @
7:26 am |
love it, or hate it…
November 30, 2009 | family
“They’re either going to love it or hate it,” I said as we stood in WalMart looking over the white tree.
We are celebrating our third Christmas in this home. It’s smaller than our last and our tree has been a challenge each Christmas. We’ve moved furniture to the garage. We’ve scrunched the tree in a corner. Last year we put it on the front porch, hoping the wind wouldn’t carry it away. It was pretty, and the little guy next door loved it, but we weren’t going to do it again.
So this year we decided we just needed a smaller tree. And since we were changing, why not go white? And since we were going white, why not buy some fun bulbs for the tree?
I placed my grown children’s absolute favorite ornaments strategically among the new bulbs: like the sparkly green and red styrofoam ball that makes Melissa’s 7-year-old school picture look like a Klingon and the rocky horses carved by a friend when they were not even school age yet.
I thought I’d have time to add a star on top and a few more pretty, funky new ornaments when I received a call.
“We’ll be passing by on our way home to Arkansas. We want to stop in and say hello,” Melissa said.
When she walked in the door, her face was hard to read. She stood with her hand on her hip, Josh standing behind her.
She walked over to the tree, walked around one way, and then the next. “Mom,” she said. “What’s this?”
“Our new Christmas tree,” I said.
Hand on the hip again. “It’s white. Not green.”
“You’re right,” I said, laughing. I stayed on my snug couch wrapped in my OU blanket. It was a fun show to watch.
“Where are all the ornaments?” she asked.
“I chose some of the favorites to put on the tree,” I said. “The rest are still in the garage.”
“Mom,” she said, “This won’t work. You are the hub. You and dad and all our traditions are what makes this home. I’m afraid you’ll have to put this in your bedroom or something. You need the green tree, and all the ornaments? Where’s Mickey Mouse? Where’s the rapper penguin? Where’s the ornament Ryan bought for you that made you cry you loved it so much?”
My son-in-law, Josh, walked over to the tree. He found the ornament celebrating the year he joined our family: a deer holding a sign that reads “2005″. One antler is broken off. He moved it from the back to the front in a prominent space. “I’m happy with it now,” he said.
Before the night was out we foraged in the garage, finding all the old ornaments. The popsicle stick Rudolph, the rapper penguin, the little red barn that reads “Eller Family”, the Christmas laminated ornaments I made the first year I owned a color printer. Melissa carefully filled in all the blank spots, sharing with Josh all over again the history behind all the ornaments.
When they left, Richard and I laughed–a lot. “Looks like they hated it,” he said.
“I called it,” I replied.
So it looks like this Christmas we’ll have a mix of the old and new. It’s not as “pretty” as it was with the matching bulbs and lights, but with the handmade ornaments and memories it’s home sweet home for a little girl all grown up named Melissa.
Posted by Suzie @
6:50 am |
Happy anniversary, R.
November 23, 2009 | family
A stick-thin girl stood in the hallway. She peeked around the corner, taking in the beauty of the flickering candles, the blue and white flowers, the music from the old piano in the corner of the stage. She wore a rented wedding gown. She didn’t fix her hair in an updo, and her makeup wasn’t from a professional.
But she was happy.
She had risked love. The girl who promised herself she’d never love anyone like this. Who would take care of herself, thank you very much. Who had been hurt, but who had been transformed by the great love of Christ.
Walking into the arms of Richard that night would lead her away from her comfort zone. It would lead her into a large family of Ellers. It would lead her out of the promise made too early that she could take care of things on her own, and didn’t need anybody.
How did so many years go by?
We’ve both changed so much. Physically, of course. But in ways that are much more profound. I finally came to accept God’s great love on any level He was willing to give–and that was immeasurable.
Marriage is a work in progress, no matter how happy you are, and we’ve arrived at this huge milestone still really in like with each other. In love, too–but I really like this man and love hanging out with him, and sometimes that’s harder to keep.
So, happy anniversary R. I love you like crazy, babe.
Suz
Posted by Suzie @
4:41 pm |
family pics
My children bought a family portrait package for me…
on Mother’s Day.
Ever since then we’ve been trying to find a weekend where we could all get together and take the pic.
It’s a real sign that my children are adults now. With careers, and new marriages, and friends and churches. We’ve got together many times since May, and I see some of them all the time, but it’s usually for a family event or it’s one couple, or divided by other things.
Now that we’ve conquered a date, a new issue has cropped up. What to wear.
“Mom, just throw out some colors.”
That seemed simple enough: white, lavender, gray, and black for pic one. Fall colors for pic two.
“So, do I wear my manly lavender shirt?” one asked.
“Lavender, really? What is that, purple?”
“I wanted to wear my brown boots.”
“You know someone’s going to show up all dressed up. Other casual. Mom, you’ve got to be more specific.”
Why are Eller family pictures like an act of Congress? Is this only my fam?
It brings me back to our last family picture. A really long time ago. It so scarred me that I haven’t tried again. In the pic, Leslie is gripping Ryan’s arm like a cold, hard vice. Payback for the conflict between them seconds before the flash.
I’m grimacing, sort of like a smile. Kinda.
The thing is that we really love each other. If you asked anyone of them who they like to hang out with, it would be the family. We laugh. We joke. We love.
But family pictures brings out a whole different side.
We’ve nailed down the colors as of last night. I finally tossed out this statement on our FB discussion: Hey guys, I don’t care about the colors so much, or even if someone wears brown boots and another has on black shoes. I just want it to be wrapped in nature, and I want to have fun.”
I’ll share the pic later. We’re taking it on Saturday. The weather is supposed to be beautiful. We’re meeting in Tahlequah at one of the most beautiful places I love to hang out.
But if Leslie is gripping her brother’s arm in the picture, and a pair of brown boots is kicking someone else in the shins, it will still be beautiful to me. I love these group of people called “family”.
(pictured in my 50th bday party – Leslie, me, Richard, Melissa, Stephen, Josh, Ryan, Kristin)
Posted by Suzie @
1:02 pm |
become a scholar
Wow, Suzie, I just fell in a huge way. I had such great intentions, but it just wasn’t enough.
What do you do when you fail? You really have only two options: you can stay down or you can learn from the experience.
Take a good look at the experience.
What happened? Where did things go wrong? Did you take the bait rather than walk away? Did you take it personal, instead of seeing the real problem?
Did you let hurt dictate your response?
Is there anything you could have done differently?
Learning from our experiences, even those where we did nothing wrong, can help us intentionally grow through it, rather than focus on the failure.
I wish I was perfect, but that’s never going to happen. So sometimes I have to back up, take a long look at the situation, and take another stab at it.
What will you change? (Only those things that are within your power.)
Maybe it’s an apology. Maybe it’s grabbing a resource or mentor in an area where I’m weaker than I want to be. Maybe it’s being honest and saying, “this gets me every time” and getting to the bottom of the real issue.
Digging deeper
Last week I was a guest on The HomeStretch, a Nashville radio station. In the interview I talk about becoming a “scholar” of the past and how that can change your future, and even your relationships with your loved ones.
I hope you’ll check it out. Then come back and let’s talk about this topic. I’d love to hear what you have to say.
Posted by Suzie @
7:34 am |
