When we Take the Armor Off – Celebrating Dental Achievements With Lucas

Sometimes we get so used to what we are going through, good or bad, that we forget there is anything else other than that. We get accustomed to protecting ourselves in survivor and fight mode, when things are overwhelming. When they last that way for years, we sometimes forget there is another way at all. How could there be another way, after all I’ve had to learn in order to deal with this? To let go of all the protection and defenses seems almost impossible. It’s a flaunting of something just out of reach.

But today, after Lucas’ tooth extraction, I was reminded that our battles come to an end sometimes. Our hard defenses can surrender their posts at certain points during the war. Surrendering your post allows for the new. For the time when the defense is no longer needed – a time that you never believed would come. Sometimes that day comes.

Like a shining symbol of armor in all its glory, Lucas’ tooth, with its metal coating, beamed as I opened the treasure box that contained it. He just had it extracted to make space for the new teeth that need to come in. We have been in an orthodontic plan for almost two years. Things are progressing well. He has been brave, facing the unknown and scary, time after time, so much more so than many grownups I know.

I have had to be brave that many times too. To support him, protect him, ask the questions, make sure his care is being performed well and followed up on.

That metal tooth was the symbol of a battle we fought years ago. One I forgot all about. The armor went up and stayed on for years til we forgot it was even there. But it was still doing it’s job well while we forgot about it.

There is inspiration in looking back at how it got there and at all it achieved. When he was only three years old, he had to go under anesthesia for some major dental work involving coating four teeth with metal seals to prevent further cavities and decay. Cavities were what required going under anesthesia because he had eight all at once at that dental visit. The four metal coatings were placed as a barrier and preventative measure to stop the same attack from damaging again.

For him to go get this specific tooth extracted marks the first of those four metal teeth to come out. The armor did its job. We got to the next stage successfully. And it reminds me that we do get through hard things. Independently and together. And sometimes we can let our tough guard down, and say job well done, you may rest now.

Sometimes our armor is that way, so strong and so long enduring, we don’t even realize we still have it going. There are times that once the armor has done its work, we can take it off.

Don’t miss the beauty in that, and rest for a moment. Enjoy and honor the pieces of you that helped you get to where you are. Thank them, and let the ones shed off that have done their job, so that new may come. It is time. You have done your job for that season, and I thank you. And of course that deserves celebration, at one of Lucas’ favorite places to eat! Soft food IHOP combo with strawberry syrup on top. ❤️

Mother’s Day- For the Mothers who Have Lost Their Mother.

Holidays like Mother’s Day tend to be really “loud” in society. Whether it be the sentimental commercials on TV, the “buy your mom the perfect gift” store displays, the social media posts, or just people you know talking about it as it nears. You will know about it coming.

Motherhood tends to be defined by all the love and tender care that we give our little ones from the very start. For many women, motherhood begins with a positive pregnancy test. For some women, it began years before that, when they first started trying to conceive, or even thought of becoming a mother.

Being a mother tests, builds, and redefines everything in you: your hopes and dreams, your fears, your self control, your patience, your love, your vulnerability, your ability to go days without a shower or sleep, in some cases your ability to spend days in the hospital and hear things you never imagined from doctors.

Motherhood typically evokes people to think of all those “firsts.” There is a first smile, first words, first steps, first friends, first day of school, first day driving, first day sleeping in their bed alone without waking up through the night.

Motherhood also, less commonly, evokes the feelings of the “lasts.” There will be the last day you drop off your child at school, because they are graduating and will be on their own moving forward, the last day you bring your child to a play date, the last time they wear all those cute little outfits as they outgrow them, the last time they come running to you to kiss their boo-boo. And, all these things are healthy, wonderful, and beautiful, though sometimes really difficult and painful. But all of these things are always filled with love at the core.

But, there’s a side to motherhood we don’t talk about much. That is, the side of watching your own mother do her lasts. No one talks much about watching your mom take her last steps, watching your mom use the bathroom independently for the last time, watching or helping her to eat her last meal, and hearing her say her last “I love you,” and then seeing her take her last breath. Nobody really likes to talk about the part of motherhood where your mom transcends to the end of her life. Yet we will likely all face it, assuming we outlive her.

And, if you’re lucky, the moments in the years will fill you for the rest of your life- long after the final moments in life have been taken.

I am not going to sugar coat it. This is reality. We all have an expiration date. And even though we are mothers, we are all also born from mothers. One day facing the news that they are no longer here to talk to, or call, or eat with, or shop with, or hold hands with, will change everything about you.

And you will have a choice to make, because you lost your mother. Because, you are still someone else’s mother. And all those milestones you watch your own children go through will make you remember your own milestones and your own mother. And you will have to dry the tears and you will have to keep on going. You will have to smile and give your own children all those moments that will live forever, since we know that none of us will.

And I doubt that it ever gets any easier in time, no matter how people say that time heals. Remember though, not being easier, doesn’t mean impossible. You see, you and I will find our way. And always having some pain over our deepest losses does not mean you can’t always also have happiness. Pain and hurt can, and often do, coexist with joy and gratitude. 

This simultaneous state, is often the price of love.

You will see your mom go from right in front of your face, to only in your mind and heart and go from the room you are in, to only there in photographs. You will see yourself go from having a person you ask all the questions to, to being the one having to answer them all on your own. I don’t imagine you can understand what this feels like, if you haven’t gone through it yourself.

And, if you relate to this, and if you are hurting today, I pray. I pray that you are able to take at least one moment today, and just simmer in the sweetness of all that still is. Take wonder in the moments between the tears of the pain, and deeply feel the joys and the love of who and for what remains. We are still mothers this Mother’s Day. And that will always be a blessing.

Undoubtedly, Mother’s Day changes, when you’re a mom who has lost her mom.

I encourage you still.

Though she’s gone, she’ll live: in the laughter that fills the air over something she used to find funny, in the smell that fills the kitchen of something you loved her cooking, in the way you choose to raise your children, in the way you receive and show love, when stories of her are spoken out loud, and in the lyrics of a song that will forever take you back to the place she created in you.

_______________________________________

My praise of the Lord

cannot be dependent

on getting what I want.

It must be dependent

on trusting who He is.