My Faith is Broken

For years, my Dad has made small wooden cutouts of words during the Christmas season. He generally chooses a word for each year, such as “hope” or “home”, and makes hundreds of these little cutouts to give to friends and family. I have collected many over the years, of course, and have displayed them in different ways. Somehow, in the rearranging or dusting of the words, the word “faith” has gotten broken. Part of the “H” has fallen off and lays pitifully beside it. I dutifully try to wedge the “H” back into its proper place, but it always falls down again. My intentions are to glue it back together one day, but until then, my faith is broken.

It’s funny, but I usually say that to myself as I am dusting or walking by the words.

My Faith is Broken.

And do you know what? It’s true. Not just the word sitting on my shelf, but the faith that I walk in day in and day out.

My Faith is Broken.

It was broken when Hugh was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It was broken when I had two miscarriages. It was broken when we lost family members too soon. It’s been broken so many times I can’t even count and I’m sure it will be broken many more.

My Faith is Broken.

That’s the thing about faith. It keeps getting broken over and over. And I guess I could throw it away at any point. I could let the “H” fall off, and then the “T”, and then the “I”, until all the letters have crumbled away. But I don’t. I keep working at it and wedging the “H” back in place. I prop it up and display it proudly. I know it’s broken, and I’m ok with that.

You see, I don’t really think we can call it faith until we have seen it broken. It’s in the moments of our greatest despair, when we feel like God has abandoned us and we are all alone, that our faith becomes what it is. Stronger. Bolder. Forged together in hope and love.

My Faith is Broken.

We are all broken, dear friends. Some are hiding their brokenness. Some are moving on. Some are in their darkest moments of a broken faith.

But that’s also the beautiful thing about a faith that is broken. Once it happens in your life, you begin to recognize it in others.

My Faith is Broken.

And maybe yours is, too. But that’s ok. We’ll help you wedge the pieces back together and display it proudly. There’s no shame in a broken faith – Only God’s Loving Hands, using His Grace to help us glue the “H” back in place, as many times as we need.

Help for School

I have had several questions about how we work with Hugh’s school and nurses concerning his Type 1 Diabetes. I would like to share where I got many of my ideas.

One of the main sources that I went to for school information was the D-Mom Blog. This mom has wonderful ideas about how to work with school staff in a cooperative and respectful way. Her book, KIDS FIRST Diabetes Second, was also a great resource for me when Hugh was first diagnosed.

Another mom that I follow closely has a blog entitled The Princess and the Pump. This mom is also a teacher, so she has lots of great ideas to help with diabetes at school. The Diabetes Fact page that I pass out to all of Hugh’s teachers comes directly from her, and I have found it extremely useful.

Of course, JDRF has many resources for parents sending their children to school for the first time with Type 1. This organization will send a free school kit to anyone who requests it, and I have used it many times when connecting with teachers and school nurses.

The most important thing that I try to do, however, is to make a personal connection with Hugh’s teachers, nurses, and the support staff at his school. I realize that being a teacher is a hard, emotionally and physically taxing job (thanks to the fact that I am also a teacher and come from a long line of teachers). I am aware that Hugh is not the only child with special needs in the school and I am never demanding, rude, or threatening when dealing with anyone at his school.

No one deserves to be treated with disrespect, especially the people who are taking care of my child. Ever.

They have a difficult job in general, and taking care of Hugh does not make it easier. I support his teachers in any way I can, and I always make it clear that if something is not working for his class or his teachers, we are flexible.

The bottom line is, we WORK TOGETHER to do what is best for Hugh!

To the Mothers Taking Care of Other Mothers

This year, as my sweet little family celebrates Mother’s Day and all the wonderful mothers we have in our life, I started thinking about the Mothers who take care of other Mothers. As we all know, motherhood is one of the most beautiful and most difficult things we do in life, and we would not survive it if it weren’t for other mothers. And in the South, especially, we regard our Mothers as near heavenly creatures who have direct phone lines to God Himself. (Scott says we ended up with a dog because my mother prayed for the kids to get one and the next day a stray showed up in our yard.)

So . . . to all the Mothers who are taking care of other Mothers, here’s to you.

Here’s to the Mothers whose daughters have babies and who show up at their daughters’ homes to cook a meal, wash a load of clothes, cradle a sleeping newborn just to let the new mom sleep for a few hours. These Mothers understand the exhaustion and emotions of a new Mother, and comfort and encourage her as only a Mother can.

Here’s to the Mother-in-laws, who generously love and nurture their son’s wife, knowing that her support and encouragement make all the difference to a young Mother.

Here’s to the Mothers whose friends are Mothers and they know just how it feels to be going through life with toddlers. They show up with coffee and donuts as the kids run wild through the house and laugh or cry over this crazy life.

Here’s to the Mothers who are teachers and understand how hard it is for Mothers to send their littles off to school every morning with homework done, teeth brushed, and backpacks packed, and who give those Mothers lots of grace when it doesn’t quite get all done.

Here’s to the Mothers who have experienced the teenage years and tell other Mothers who are just at the beginning that everything will be ok. That they will survive it and may even end up liking their kids a little bit more on the other side.

Here’s to the Mothers who smile at other Mothers with kids running in circles in the grocery store and then help them unload their cart onto the check-out counter.

Here’s to the Mothers who are nurses and who give an encouraging hug and kind words to a Mother when her child is sick or hurting.

Here’s to the Mothers who laugh with other Mothers when they share a story about potty-training or puberty or dating.

Here’s to the Mothers who cry with other Mothers when there are no words to describe the pain.

Here’s to the Mothers who had no children of their own, but care for other Mothers’ children as if they were their own.

Here’s to the Mothers who extend a hand of help and grace to other Mothers in desperate times – passing out emergency food, collecting supplies, offering shelter regardless of where the other Mother is from or what has happened in her life.

Here’s to the Mothers who are raising little Mothers-to-be, who show their daughters that women can be strong and kind and beautiful.

Here’s to the Mothers who are taking care of the Mothers who are wrinkled and worn – who have lived their lives and are nearing the end of their days here on Earth.

The Sacred, The South, and Sugar

Tales From One Southern Mama's Journey

My Faith is Broken

My Faith is Broken.

My Faith is Broken.

My Faith is Broken.

My Faith is Broken.

But that’s also the beautiful thing about a faith that is broken. Once it happens in your life, you begin to recognize it in others.

My Faith is Broken.

Help for School

To the Mothers Taking Care of Other Mothers

So . . . to all the Mothers who are taking care of other Mothers, here’s to you.

Here’s to the Mother-in-laws, who generously love and nurture their son’s wife, knowing that her support and encouragement make all the difference to a young Mother.

Here’s to the Mothers whose friends are Mothers and they know just how it feels to be going through life with toddlers. They show up with coffee and donuts as the kids run wild through the house and laugh or cry over this crazy life.

Here’s to the Mothers who are teachers and understand how hard it is for Mothers to send their littles off to school every morning with homework done, teeth brushed, and backpacks packed, and who give those Mothers lots of grace when it doesn’t quite get all done.

Here’s to the Mothers who have experienced the teenage years and tell other Mothers who are just at the beginning that everything will be ok. That they will survive it and may even end up liking their kids a little bit more on the other side.

Here’s to the Mothers who smile at other Mothers with kids running in circles in the grocery store and then help them unload their cart onto the check-out counter.

Here’s to the Mothers who are nurses and who give an encouraging hug and kind words to a Mother when her child is sick or hurting.

Here’s to the Mothers who laugh with other Mothers when they share a story about potty-training or puberty or dating.

Here’s to the Mothers who cry with other Mothers when there are no words to describe the pain.

Here’s to the Mothers who had no children of their own, but care for other Mothers’ children as if they were their own.

Here’s to the Mothers who extend a hand of help and grace to other Mothers in desperate times – passing out emergency food, collecting supplies, offering shelter regardless of where the other Mother is from or what has happened in her life.

Here’s to the Mothers who are raising little Mothers-to-be, who show their daughters that women can be strong and kind and beautiful.

Here’s to the Mothers who are taking care of the Mothers who are wrinkled and worn – who have lived their lives and are nearing the end of their days here on Earth.

Here’s to the Mothers all over this world who take the time to care for other Mothers.

May we know you and may we be you.

Happy Mother’s Day

Sally

My Faith is Broken.

My Faith is Broken.

My Faith is Broken.

My Faith is Broken.

But that’s also the beautiful thing about a faith that is broken. Once it happens in your life, you begin to recognize it in others.

My Faith is Broken.

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So . . . to all the Mothers who are taking care of other Mothers, here’s to you.

Here’s to the Mother-in-laws, who generously love and nurture their son’s wife, knowing that her support and encouragement make all the difference to a young Mother.

Here’s to the Mothers whose friends are Mothers and they know just how it feels to be going through life with toddlers. They show up with coffee and donuts as the kids run wild through the house and laugh or cry over this crazy life.

Here’s to the Mothers who are teachers and understand how hard it is for Mothers to send their littles off to school every morning with homework done, teeth brushed, and backpacks packed, and who give those Mothers lots of grace when it doesn’t quite get all done.

Here’s to the Mothers who have experienced the teenage years and tell other Mothers who are just at the beginning that everything will be ok. That they will survive it and may even end up liking their kids a little bit more on the other side.

Here’s to the Mothers who smile at other Mothers with kids running in circles in the grocery store and then help them unload their cart onto the check-out counter.

Here’s to the Mothers who are nurses and who give an encouraging hug and kind words to a Mother when her child is sick or hurting.

Here’s to the Mothers who laugh with other Mothers when they share a story about potty-training or puberty or dating.

Here’s to the Mothers who cry with other Mothers when there are no words to describe the pain.

Here’s to the Mothers who had no children of their own, but care for other Mothers’ children as if they were their own.

Here’s to the Mothers who extend a hand of help and grace to other Mothers in desperate times – passing out emergency food, collecting supplies, offering shelter regardless of where the other Mother is from or what has happened in her life.

Here’s to the Mothers who are raising little Mothers-to-be, who show their daughters that women can be strong and kind and beautiful.

Here’s to the Mothers who are taking care of the Mothers who are wrinkled and worn – who have lived their lives and are nearing the end of their days here on Earth.

Here’s to the Mothers all over this world who take the time to care for other Mothers.

May we know you and may we be you.

Happy Mother’s Day

Sally

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