The PURSE-onality Challenge: Mother

(We're gearing up for The PURSE-onality Challenge holiday edition–"A Holiday-Ready Heart"–in October! Stay tuned for full details...Warm-Up Week starts September 24!)

September 5-23, I'll be blogging through Mary DeMuth's soon-to-be-released book Everything: What you Give and What you Gain to Become Like Jesus. Each week, I'll be giving way a copy of the book. You can enter the drawing via the Rafflecopter at the end of each Everything blog post!

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Don't let the smile fool you. I worried about
my "horns" (feathered hair). I worried
about my teeth. I worried about my
thick glasses. I worried about...

"Worry is a weighty monster with poisoned tentacles. It clutches at our minds, steals our breath, our will. It lurks. It pounces. It colors how we perceive the world.

But God whispers peace in the midst.

Me? I listen to my frenetic shouting, preferring my self-imposed rants, and I don't hear the Almighty's peace."

Mary DeMuth, Everything -- download 2 free chapters here!

Incessant worry and overwhelming anxiety were normal for me growing up. The women in my family modeled this self-perpetuating control cycle, and I learned it well at an early age:

1. fear the dozens of ways things could go wrong;
2. work to exhaustion to prevent them;
3. congratulate self when everything turns out fine;
4. repeat.

In honor of this week's release of Graceful {for young women}, Emily Freeman (author of Grace for the Good Girl) has invited bloggers to write letters to their teenage selves.

Here is mine:

Early in my eating disorder;
I went on to lose another
20+ pounds.

Oh Sweetheart,

Stop trying so hard.

I know that’s hard to hear. You pride yourself in being a do-er. A hard worker. An achiever.

But you’re trying to achieve the impossible.

Trust me on this one:

Nothing you do will make Mother happy.

Your A+++ grades won’t make her happy.

Your becoming a teacher won’t make her happy.

Your marriage won’t make her happy. (In fact, she’ll be so unhappy that she’ll refuse to participate at all. You’ll plan your wedding all by yourself.)

Your children won’t even make her happy.

Oh, she’ll enjoy them. And you’ll have a few years during which you’ll feel like you’ve finally earned her approval.

Wearing my mother's dress,
gloves, shoes, and belt.
(The hat was my idea!)

But then they’ll grow past the “cute” stage, become teenagers, and about the time you’re launching your firstborn to college, Mother will start losing her memory.

And then, for the first time in your life, you will see her happy. She will not know you, but she will be happy.

As Daddy and John comfort each other by saying that she’s “the happiest she’s been in 45 years,” it will occur to you that they knew her when she knew them and was still happy.

You will realize then what you can not suspect right now: Mother has been depressed for your entire life.

Her unhappiness is not your fault.

You did not cause it. You can not fix it.

You can not make her happy. No matter what you do. No matter how hard you try.

I left home shortly after this photo
was taken, but my craving to make
my mother happy followed
right after me.

Nothing you do will make Mother happy.

Stop trying so hard.

Start seeking refuge.

Learn now–when you long for the love she can not offer–to run to Him.

Learn now–when you cry for the comfort she can not give–to hide in Him.

Stop trying so hard.

Stop trying.

Stop.

Be still.

Know Him.

Know that He delights in you;

He always has, and He always will.

In His Delight,

Your 45-year-old self

Your Turn:

What worries are at the top of your worry list?

What would you say to your teenage self?

Anything else on your heart!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Our Give-Away for Today!

A Mother's Legacy:

Your Life Story in Your Own Words

This mother's memory journal takes you on a journey that will become a cherished family memoir.

Designed in a 12-month format, each month features 12 intriguing questions with space to write a personal answer.

Questions explore family history, childhood memories, lighthearted incidents, cherished traditions, and the dreams and spiritual adventures encountered in a lifetime of living. Her written words become windows to a mother's heart.

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"The Happiest She’s Been in 45 Years"

A poem born in the work of deliverance God is doing in my relationship with my mother.

(If you'd like to view the video but can't see it, click here to go directly to "The Happiest She's Been in 45 Years.")

She was happy

once upon a time

long

ago.

Then,

all changed.

She birthed a baby girl.

She moved 3,000 miles

to an unknown land:

California,

where women wore white

after Labor Day.

And she tried.

Oh,

how hard

she tried

to make everything

just right

so I could be happy.

I didn’t care

about leveling off the measuring cup with the back of the knife

whether the salad fork went on the left or the right

if dinner was served precisely at 6:00 PM.

I just wanted her to be happy.

So I learned

the importance of measuring (and doing my math homework) perfectly.

where the salad fork always goes.

to be on time is to be late; to be early is to be on time.

I was

miserable

so that

she would be happy.

But

neither

she

nor

ever

were.

* * * * *

Now they comfort each other

saying,

“She’s the happiest she’s been in

45 years.”

But this is small comfort

for the baby girl

born

45 years

ago.

I know

her happiness

was left behind

in the move.

But I also know

she waited and prayed

for so long

for a daughter

a daughter

who failed

for 40 years to do

what Alzhiemers

has done

in less

than

She is happy

once again,

now that

all is changed.

Her memories

of the past

45 years

are lost

and gone

forever.

She no longer knows

the name

she gave the daughter

she waited and prayed for

45 years

ago.

She is happy

now that she does not know

who I am

or how to follow her own recipes.

or where the salad fork goes

or that she should eat dinner tonight.

* * * * *

And so I move

far more than 3,000 miles away

to an unknown land:

Hope,

where memories

and measuring cups

and forks

and dinner times

are left behind,

where

we can be

at peace

together,

where (at long last)

we can both be

the happiest we’ve been in

45 years.

Try this today: Ask God to reveal a fear (an anxiety, an expectation, a disappointment, a grudge, a complaint – same difference!) that's bound you to shame (or pride). In pencil, write it on a 3x5 card. Then with a black marker, write Psalm 34:4-5 over the fear. Draw a big "up" arrow as a reminder to look to Him. Post it where you'll see it regularly!

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To enter today’s drawing, leave a comment

responding to today’s blog, and/or

sharing your Day #1-13 experience of replacing “baditude” with God’s word and gratitude, and/or

about anything else on your heart!

Drawing winners 6-10 will be announced soon!

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(Catch up on any "Warm-Up Week" Blog Posts!)

Dear Teenage Me: Don't Worry that She's not Happy

Day 13: DELIVERED