Saturday, May 12, 2012




OR
Happy Mother's Eve! 

( As Ray Raynor always said about birthdays -- nodding to Kirk -- "if you are a mother . . .")

I'm thinking tonight about a very special Mother's Day worship service at a beautiful United Methodist Church on 16th Street, NW, right north of Varnum Street in Washington, D.C.

It was 1989, the year after I had lost my kids because of the nervous break down.

And it was still more than a month before Krista was to return to live with me, and thirteen months before Tom's ability to rejoin me in my abode.  (But on that Mother's Day, I still had no idea if or when they would ever return.)

I was so full of grief and pain that I didn't feel I could make it down the gentle roller coaster hills of 16th Street the twenty-plus blocks to Foundry, my home church of seven and a half months' time.

Nevertheless, I was welcomed sweetly by some dear folks who had never set eyes on me before that wonderful waking up, Resurrection-like spring morning.

At first I thought I was intruding because I was not dressed any way near as beautifully as the stately African-American women in their elegantly tailored Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. I was almost shocked (in a good way . . .) to see the ladies and young girls of the congregation -- true queens and princesses -- with their fabulous millinery crowns on their proudly-held heads.

And the gospel music and Methodist hymns were so uplifting . . . and -- wow! There should be another name for THAT kind of preaching -- it wasn't just a sermon, but a welcome to process through the very Gate of Heaven.

At that time out of time, moment of moments, I was given the distinct impression in my Spirit that I was being ushered right I past courtiers, angels and archangels, was observed by the melodiously-praising above and all around us, (unseen but still very clearly there) Cherubim and Seraphim, escorted into the LORD's very Throne Room.

And I had the deep sense that the invitation was graciously extended, accompanied by the sounds of silver trumpets and rams' horns, sacred celestial shofarim.

But the most touching part was being called up with all the other mothers and grandmothers; mothers of the Church and "mother-ers" of all kinds, called up group by group.  It didn't seem to matter at all how many called you Mama or Mommie or Mammie or Mother; or Grandma or Granny or Nana or Nanny or Auntie; or great-any one, or even great-great whoever.

Each loving nurturer received a long-stemmed white or red rose, her choice. For me at that point then, the comforting came: the beyond-welcoming expressions of concern and care because of my unwanted, but unstoppable flow of warm liquid that leaked from my eyes to the tune of quiet sobs.

I'm very grateful to God that the Lord does indeed binds up broken hearts.

So . . . especially if for any reason you have a broken, bruised, damaged, or ailing heart for one or multiple reasons, please allow Him to bind up the pieces  Let the Lord apply the Balm of Gilead.  Suffer the Comforter to put back together the missing chunks. Or if there is any other way that your heart needs help, ask Te Great Physician to heal that most necessary organ and "seat" of all your emotions.

And if you can't even begin to think of how you will be able to reach God, never mind. 

He will gently come to you if you are able in any slight way to ask.

And if you don't believe your heart can be healed or repaired or returned to you whole and un-scarred, never mind.

Please just try to pretend to pretend to believe that He can and He will.

The Lord is gentle and unobtrusive, but can be almost sneaky when trying to help you find just exactly what circumstance and/or mind set will allow you to believe you are loved and to believe that in Him all things are possible.

He can, in an un-threatening way, be like the pushiest door-to-door salesman imaginable.

Please just open the door of your heart a little bit if you can come up with even a hint of a question, and a smidgeon of welcome.

If you allow the Holy Spirit to do so, He will pour in answers to each of your questions in exactly the way you need to hear the replies.

And the more you are able to open your heart, more love than you can imagine (but only in the dose you can manage) will flow into your newly- or repeatedly- repaired heart as He restores your soul.

Honest.

Really, truly.

Will you give God a chance?

 * * * *

So as I wrote that, I saw with my mind's eye the white-dressed, white-gloved, white-hatted, white high-heeled team of beautiful usherettes . . . but maybe that's not what they are called . . . and I had the deep distinct delightful cognition of being ministered to by angels.

And I felt myself enveloped by the close denseness of peace-filled holiness that surely was suffused all through the glory-tinged Sanctuary. 

The sweetest Heavenly incense of perfume and after-shave and soap emanated from bodies that had been breathing in the Breath of the Divine Gentle Merciful Loving God Almighty, Most Sacred.  They effortlessly breathed out that sanctifying element that was imparted to them through channels of love joy and grace.  This essence of "zoey", abundant life flowed out of every pore and mouth and nose of each one in the Spirit.

Then that burgeoning gentle cascade of graciousness was swirling over our heads: whirling gently and lifting up spirits; inciting hands and hearts and voices to be raised in praise; fortifying each will to be able to live fully in God's will; and renewing souls.

The loving force was gently binding each one to the others in an inexplicable joy.

The ecstasy was making each heart that was open to God in Christ aware of the supremely loving host of witnesses who were heart-discerned by all eyes that were open to the Spirit.

This is dedicated in the Name of the Three-in-One/One-in-Three to my dearest Mom. 

I also gratefully acknowledge the love and mothering given to me by my loving Aunts Pat and Betty who still abide with us here on earth.

And I thank God for all the spiritual mother-nurturers in my life, especially Mary, who is still with us, and many others who abide in the fullness of eternal love. 

Those who have gone on before us include our Grandma Donna, our Grandma Harris, our Great Grandmothers Rose and Angelina; our Great-Great Aunt Daisy, and many more who knew us and loved us.

Aunt Jean, Aunt Marcia, Aunt Alice Harris, Aunt Alice Moore, Aunt Millie, Aunt Annie and Aunt Katie also abide in eternal holinesss and love as does our spiritual "Grandma," Mary Laux.

Alleluia!

There are also mothers and grandmothers who were neighbors, teachers, bus drivers, and church members like Elaine, Dyllis, Toni, Mary, Eleanor, Suzanne, Pat, Janet, Tuttle, Jean, Kathleen, Elizabeth, Olive, Marian, Flo, Georgiana, Betty, Sonia, Rocio, and many others who expressed their loving kindness in a myriad of ways.

We were and are truly blessed, beginning with the blessing of Jesus' Holy Mother Mary who said, "Yes!" to God, no matter what the cost.

How grateful to God I am to be Krista's and Tom's Mom; to be Grandma Kathy to Noah, Trevor, Andrew, Alexis, Seth, Jude, Colin, and Lily. I am also blessed and grateful for in-law/in-love son, and for many "associate kids."  (You all know who you are . . .)

Again and again, Alleluia!

Praying fervently for all mothers and grandmothers who have lost a xhild or children, or who are estranged from her, him or them in any way, especially for those most dear to me.

Please hear me: your child or children is/ are watched over in love by God the Creator. He has given holy angels charge over them.

Your prayers are very dear to God's heart, and your love for your precious child or children is matched and exceeded by your Abba/Father's love for your beautiful child or children even if you are only able to be with him or her or them in Spirit at this time, for whatever reason.

Your missing child/children abide(s) in your heart.

He or she or they is/are safe, sound and protected by the One able to keep her or him or them in ways you can't possibly fathom.

So be at peace, dearly Beloved.

The One Who created the universe never slumbers and sleeps. God is able to do so much more than we can even think to ask.

Really.

Truly.

Absolutely and eternally.

[Indeed!]

Conceived, written and shared in The Holy Name of Jesus. Amen. (S.D.G.)

In His Love -- Kathy



Kathleen Ware Harris  © 2013
kwharris777@gmail.com