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Happy Go Stuckey

Tethering Grace & Togetherness

Motherhood, Missions, & the Problem with Arm’s Length

March 2, 2018 by HappyGoStuckey 8 Comments

“Welcome Home, Ma’am.”
The stone faced customs agent slides my passport back across the desk and politely nods me back into the country. It only takes one long hug on the other side of baggage claim to know that I am indeed, home. This is my place.

Almost two weeks later I’ve remembered how to cook my own meals. Without the water restrictions we faced in South Africa, I’m back to taking regularly timed showers and immersing my entire head at once. But each time someone asks me if I’m back to normal— I hesitate. Reentry is such a strange thing; getting back to normal is an odd combination of moving on but not forgetting. I still find myself holding all the things I held there– balancing the beauty, holding the hardness, and allowing certain things to slip through my fingers with the quiet reminder that I am not in charge.

The day we left for Africa, I kissed two tiny shampoo scented heads and his freshly shaven face and said goodbye. A suitcase that was barely under weight added to all that I carried inside. Anticipation. Joy. Remembrance. And a fear of not being able to hold it all well.

Because, to be honest? Last February I lost it. I lasted three whole days before I fell crazy sobbing wet-faced apart. A complete and total embarrassing mess of body-shaking sobs. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t look at those babies who had walked through things I’d never known myself and stand there as anything but— a Mother.
I cannot divorce my identity as a mother from the girl that travels there in my shoes. I kiss my people and go, holding what I think is only courage and resolution. But somewhere in my carryon is my motherhood and it gets in the way of my bravery.

It’s true, the stories we take within us can make it difficult to hold the stories we learn along the way. The children are the hardest for me. Mine, theirs, and the ones in between. The babies who only belong to their Creator– the forgotten ones He will never forget. I simply can’t hold it all well with grit alone. I have to be broken. I have to feel for them as my life as a mother causes me to — completely.
I cannot see them and not see my own little lookalikes. I cannot watch them walk alone together, and not wonder who is tucking them in at night. Do they have a safe place to sleep? Does anyone tie their shoes? Button their coat? Does anyone?
I’m
The
Very
Worst
At
Arms
Length.
Often I learn a piece of the story and then want to know every single detail ends in a pretty, eventually happy package.
And it’s hard not to see a hard story turn into a pretty package before my unhardened eyes.

This year I steeled myself for the wave of helplessness. For the staggering paradox of turquoise water and dry hot sand being too clear a picture of the opposite extremes of South Africa. I braced myself.
Be strong this time. You’ve seen this before. Pull it together.
But deep inside, I hear a whisper and it calls me back to a place of dependence, not resilience. Strong is not the goal.
Compassion is the goal.

The goal is absolutely to be affected by the pain all around us because, friend?
Pain. is. all. around. us.
The moment we stop feeling their pain is the moment we lose the benefit of our humanity and our motherhood.

So instead we take the deep breath we need and we quietly ask, if only in an uncertain whisper,
Break our hearts for what breaks Yours, God.

Knowing that strong is not the goal, I chose a hunt for hope instead.
In the deep dark, I want to hear hope like birdsong ringing.
And in His mercy that was there before the South African sunrise broke the horizon, He showed me so much hope.
He showed me redemption around so many corners.
A church that keeps going back. That keeps showing up in hard and beautiful places.
A people that thank God for a handful of raindrops when what they need is a deluge.
He showed me a glimpse into a township we couldn’t even enter and in it a boy about eight, dancing in obstinate joy against all that surrounded his steps.
He showed me an organization that has changed the landscape of the orphan in Cape Town.
We saw the no longer motherless in loving arms of belonging.
And big sisters caring for little brothers; both living in safety and smiles.
There were children who know who Jesus is. And eyes that light up to hold a Bible in their own language.
We saw a sweeping narrative of HOPE; and stories that aren’t even close to over.
He showed me that last year’s disbelief was necessary for this year’s amazement.
He showed me He is still at work.

It’s not any easier to bear sad things as a mother; I believe it may be just a bit harder. But now I know my inability to stay at arms length is a gift and not a curse.
I won’t lay my motherhood aside when I drive by places I wish didn’t exist. I will lean into the questions. I want to walk bravely without seeing how the story ends— willing to be a small part of what God is doing.
As much as we might want to, we cannot remove the mantle of who we are.
Even when the threads of our past seem to be a tangled knot that keeps us from helping, they are sewn together in a puzzle we must not discount.

We can still hold an aching kind of bravery. We can be broken hearted without despair. Even when the hurt is too heavy to hold and the pain slices through what we thought the world looked like. Stopping our ears doesn’t help them, and it doesn’t help us. Seeing brings empathy and empathy brings hurt. And hurt brings us to that spacious place of asking with open hands,
“Here we are; use us?”

 

Scattered Unripe Lemons: A Year In Review
What I’m Loving Lately

Comments

  1. Deb Weaver says

    March 2, 2018 at 2:22 pm

    Oh, Cynthia, this is utter beauty.

    Reply
    • HappyGoStuckey says

      March 6, 2018 at 11:36 am

      Thank you friend. So happy to see your face here!

      Reply
  2. Mary Anne Fellows says

    March 2, 2018 at 3:09 pm

    Hello Cynthia,
    Ditto what Deb said…..you shared your heart and your experience beautifully. I have been drawn to S. Africa for many years now. I crochet blankets, mitts, hats and sweaters, which go to Knit A Square. They in turn hand them out to the disadvantaged and orphaned children. Every photo of a child sleeping on the floor, who now has a blanket, makes me so grateful to be part of the KAS outreach. The children are so incredibly thankful for the smallest thing….a little stuffed toy, which gives them comfort and joy. The only toy they have ever had and probably every will have! I have wanted to go there for such a long time and pray that some day I will get there. Right now I am physically unable to do it, because of back issues (the flight would make me unable to do anything once I got there!). So I continue to support them as much as I can and crochet my little squares to make into blankets. But I pray for healing that will one day allow me to be more active in this kind of outreach. It means so much that you have shared this.
    Bless you for going and doing what you can…..and for sharing your experience in such a visceral way! Hugs!

    Reply
    • HappyGoStuckey says

      March 6, 2018 at 11:34 am

      HI Mary Anne– I absolutely love what you’re doing with KAS– thank you so much for taking a moment to share your ministry with me. And you’re correct, the flight is an absolute beast even if you didn’t have back issues. But as you’ve realized, that’s no match for your knitting! 🙂 I love the thought of those little children having something hand made just for them. I know it is a huge gift of grace to them.

      Thank you again for letting me in on what you’re doing.

      Reply
  3. Erin says

    March 5, 2018 at 4:23 am

    Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful❤️

    Reply
    • HappyGoStuckey says

      March 6, 2018 at 11:35 am

      Thank you friend. And I cannot help but notice you were reading this in the bleary beautiful newborn hours of the morning. Praying that time fills you both. <3

      Reply
  4. Prensa says

    March 6, 2018 at 4:29 am

    Thank you for sharing this, it’s good to read some real personal honesty about life (the majority of my mama friends seem to have it all), happiness included! I’m just about to embark on a massive change in life regarding motherhood. It’s been a long time coming, something I never actually thought I’d have to face. My daughter is about to meet the woman my fiancé had an affair with. He left me once our daughter was born, telling me about the affair he was having while I was pregnant. (7 and a half years and you think you know someone..). I’ve been pushed into a corner with this decision, and I’m trying to come to terms with it. I was robbed of a ‘normal’ motherhood, where everything you imagine happens, and now here I am. They are still together. Im about to face a whole other dynamic of the pain, as if I’m embarking on motherhood and heartbreak at exactly the same time isn’t enough. If you can make changes to your mental well-being and happiness, to be a better version of yourself, do it. Try it. I can only hope that the decision that’s being made for me, helps me turn a turn another little corner. All this being said, I love my daughter dearly and we are the bestest of friends. (Goes without saying). Thanks again, Laura.

    Reply
    • HappyGoStuckey says

      March 6, 2018 at 11:41 am

      Hi Laura. Thank you for sharing a small piece of your journey with me. What a road you’ve been down. I am so very sorry that your days as a mother were seemingly so lonely at times and that the surprises seem to continue even now.

      I’m praying for you by name now. Praying you will be reminded that you are never alone and that you will know again the true and lasting hope of Christ.

      I love these first few verses of Isaiah 43 and I hope they will comfort you as well.

      “But now thus says the LORD,
      he who created you, O Jacob,
      he who formed you, O Israel:
      “Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
      I have called you by name, you are mine.
      When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
      and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
      when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
      and the flame shall not consume you.
      For I am the LORD your God,
      the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

      Reply

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Hey There!

I'm Cynthia and I'm so glad you're here. I am an introvert with an extrovert's love of gathering people together. I love good books and capturing moments. Whether you visit me here or on my own front porch, I'll be the one holding the Iced Coffee for us both.

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happygostuckey

Truth: I am not the best cookie baker in our house Truth: I am not the best cookie baker in our house. It is hands down @friar_stuck — Today he added a pinch of fresh orange zest to Oatmeal Scotchies and they taste just like childhood.

My grandma used to make these and serve them to me on a pink plate with a small glass of sprite with ice. At 39, I now realize two things— 1. She would have adored my husband and 2. these cookies go best with coffee or tea.

What cookie makes you feel eight years old again?
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These trees in my own backyard, captured this morning, last March, and last August, will continue changing in their own rhythmic way whether I’m watching them or not. There’s a comfort in that for me today— and perhaps for you.

Whatever looks slow and unmoving, with change almost too gradual to detect— is still very much in a pattern of forward transformation.

And these quiet days in the midst of our January-ness— we can be reminded that growth never really stops, especially in the hidden places.

#wonderfortheweary #feastingandforaging #bluehousebackyard
Not moving from this spot, except to boil the kett Not moving from this spot, except to boil the kettle for more tea.

This is the first complete weekend that we’ve been home since Thanksgiving. 😳 It sounds awful, especially for this homebody, but really what it means is, we’ve celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas with family, attended one beautiful family wedding (Hey, Shelby! 👋🏻❤️) one 90th Birthday party for our beloved Granny, and had a family trip. They were all such sparkly gifts. Ones I don’t take for granted and so very different from last year.

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Not pictured: waking up to find our children taller and suddenly at our eye level, new laugh lines on our faces, sweltering pool days, fireplace dinners, Marco Polo chats with friends, family weddings & visits, mountain air breathed, books read, new jobs begun, school days, approximately 52 pizza nights, new rhythms & schedules, house repairs, car issues, and God always before us, behind us and within us. Soli deo Gloria. #thebestisyettocome
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave t On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… 🍦Four Honeymoon milkshakes from the Dreamette. We’re going out with a bang, at the spot where their Grandparents grew up eating their ice cream. It’s absolutely the GOAT.
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Happy Christmas from the Jolly Old Stuckeys! 🇬🇧🎄❤️
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