A Morning in the Kitchen

Some people think in the bathroom, some people think while driving and some people think in the shower.  Me?  I think in the kitchen.

As I clean and cook this morning, three things keep rolling around my head and weighing heavy on my heart.  The first is about a brother and probably not what you expect.  I think I'll save that for a blog post all of it's own.  The second is about when you are out of sight of people, they often forget about you.  I often compare it with how people treat God and the Bible when they aren't in church.  Again, another blog for another time.

The third is probably the hardest of the three to digest and that is my desire to have a mother.

Keep in mind, I have spent my entire life not wanting a mother figure in my life.  Of course, that is because of what my mother represented to me.  So, I do see this as positive growth in me.  It is also important to point out here that while I believe I am healthier without contact with my family, I am not the one who stopped contact with my mom.  The day I told her I was being the baptized with the last time I spoke to her.  She hung up the phone, never called again and turned her back on me.

Since I didn't lead a Beaver Cleaver life, it's no surprise that my mom was no June.  She represents everything a mother should not be.  My mom was not only guilty of allowing my dad to hurt us, she was also an abuser in the sickest sense of the word and grossly neglectful.  Although I have good reason to believe she grew up in abuse herself, I do not believe that excuses her for her actions or lack of with us.

The last four years have afforded me the opportunity to see what healthy mother and daughter relationships look like.  Gradually, I have begun to long for that type of relationship and I think it has become a new normal for me.  I believe that desire to have a mother figure is a normal, healthy longing of a woman's heart.

It isn't that I don't have confidence in Psalm 27:10.  I do, however, lack faith that God has provided sufficient humanly replacements to help ease the pain.

Not having a mother in my life leaves me with a daily sense of loss and in many ways.

I find myself asking, "Who do I talk to about this?" or "Who do I share this with?" or "Who do I ask?" or "Who is going to encourage me?"  And realize, there is nobody.  At least not in a motherly way...

When I got married, I couldn't fix a can of soup.  Now, I write my own recipes or alter those of famous chefs to make them better.  I would love to be able to call up my mom and say hey guess what I did...but I can't.  I would love to hear just once, "You've come a long way and I'm glad you are my daughter."

There are things that go on health wise that I wish I could call my mom and ask her if she had ever experienced anything similar.  But I can't.  I am left to manage my own anxiety and usually over things that resolve them self after a day.  Just once, I'd like to hear, "It's ok, it will go away soon" or "Maybe you should get that checked out, how about I go with you to the doctor."

Kent and I don't argue a lot and when we do, the subject is usually gone long before the fight is over.  I want to be able to call someone to be consoled, corrected or just to vent, knowing they will always direct me back to the love I have for him.

When good things happen, I would love to be able to call someone just to share.  Whether I go through tough times or times of joy, I want to share that with a mom. 

I see women who have absent mothers or mothers who have passed.  Some of them feel the same way I do.  Most of them have been given the gift of a surrogate mother.  Some have fathers who have taken the role in their life that the mother can't fill.

I wonder sometimes why God has never chosen to cross my path with someone who could help heal the broken heart my mom has caused me.  Am I not a worthy enough daughter?  Am I some how flawed beyond what any motherly figure could love?  My broken heart and crushed spirit believe no because the longing to be loved is so strong in me.  But, my analytical, realistic mind believe yes because I have a track record of loneliness to prove it.

Right now, right this moment...I am living in one of those periods when I want to run to my mom crying, feel safe in her arms, hear her say, "It's ok, everything is going to be fine. We might not understand all that is going on, but I will never leave you." 

Sadly, this has never happened and never will.  This is just a void I have to accept.  Acceptance of truth doesn't mean the pain is any less.