Jehovah was not in the wind. And after the wind, an earthquake: Jehovah was not in the earthquake.
And after the earthquake, a fire: Jehovah was not in the fire. And after the fire, a soft gentle voice. (1Kings 19:11-12)

Sunday, May 11, 2014

A Mother's Day of Waiting {A Guest Post}

 {My own dear sister wrote this tribute for all women who Mother.
It is a gift to share it here in this quiet place from one sister to another 
to encourage us all to
walk on together and press on in hope. }

And to you dear mother,
who spends her days—in waiting—
the 9 months of growing big with life
begin this watchful journey.

waiting in the stillness of the night as you feed and nurture a tiny babe;
waiting while you learn to place one foot in front of the other, trying desperately not to trip up—trying to work through the emotions and anxieties that accompany new motherhood;

waiting for those first smiles;
waiting as you watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest—counting each breath and praying over her tiny body;

waiting for other tired mamas to greet you at the park;
waiting for someone to simply understand;

waiting in the kitchen surrounded by emptied oatmeal bowls stacked skyscraper high—
waiting for that much desired coffee to finish brewing and the dishwasher to finish its cycle; 

waiting to hear about your son's day as he returns home from his first day of school; 
waiting for the surprise Lego orders to arrive;

waiting in line for birthday balloons or shoes for the child who never seems to stop growing;
waiting for the music lesson to start or the library teacher to begin her story;

waiting for the soccer-dirtied clothes to be clean again;
waiting for those free giant slobber kisses and bear hugs each night before bed;

waiting for your teenage daughter to Facebook friend you;
waiting for her to come out of her room and talk about the struggles within her heart;

waiting for your son to pass his driving test;
waiting at home as he drives alone for his first time;
waiting and watching as they grow and change; 

9 months of waiting gathered into years,
the colourful yarns and frays of each moment,
woven into the wonder of motherhood.

The wonder of all this waiting.
turning over into something beautiful like the rise of fall of waves crashing marks upon the shore,
pulled by the gravitational force of the moon.
These waiting years are powerful!

They leave marks of beauty without us even realizing it.
Even in the waiting,
the pull of His purposes are working and holding all things together. 

He holds the woman who waits in painful silence. 

The woman who has been waiting and is still waiting,

waiting for the test to show a positive line —wiping away those private, heavy tears when the waiting is forced to continue;
waiting at the ER for help to stop the bleeding—for someone to tell her it will all be okay, it is all just a bad dream;
waiting to hear a heartbeat—and than waiting to breathe again when the technician looks over with compassion.

waiting at the doctors office to hear the news no mother wants to here;
waiting for those surprises that threaten to tear down the safe walls of family;

waiting for that heavenly place, where you will meet the child you loved and named, the child who never knew your arms on earth but waits for you with open arms in heaven;

waiting for your husband to come home so you can share your hurt and pain over comments spoken by someone who fails to understand your deepest pain;

waiting to hear of more birth announcements and first year birthday parties when you are forced to start the whole process of healing over again;

waiting for the date that comes each year that reminds you and pains your heart with such intensity that no one will ever fully understand;

waiting for the silence to end and secrets to be spoken - the forgiveness to the woman who long ago made a choice that she now regrets; 

waiting for the one who made a hard choice to give a tiny life away—to a family whose hearts are ready to hold that precious child; 

waiting at the hospital with your little one for more treatments and interventions;
waiting to hear back from the doctor's office;

waiting for each new birthday to celebrate a new year and give thanks;
waiting to see them grow stronger;
waiting for the chance to go to parks and grocery stores without worrying about infection;

waiting to answer the painful questions of other children who don't understand why they can't play with their little brother anymore;
waiting at home quietly, afraid to go out and face a world of strangers and well-meaning friends;

waiting for someone to just weep with you, no words heard, only the sound of gentle breaking and mending of hearts together;

waiting for your sweet child to take his first step, a child who has worked with therapists, the child you didn't know would ever be able to roll over, crawl or walk;

waiting to hear back from the school about special classes or problems at school; 

waiting to see if she will be invited to her neighbour's birthday party; 
waiting for the tears to fall when she realizes she hasn't been included;
waiting to explain why being different than others is what makes her incredibly beautiful;

waiting to hear your son say, "I love you"
waiting for him to make eye contact;

waiting for your child to turn around and follow after the ONE who is Love;
waiting for your prodigal to come home;

waiting for your prayers to be answered; 

waiting for the babysitter to arrive because you work through everything alone and you just need this help;
waiting with your children as they watch for daddy by the window wondering if he will show up this time for their week-end visit;

waiting for the guilt from choices in the past to finally be swept away;
waiting to hear the good news of sins forgiven and the beautiful story of redemption;

waiting to hear someone say it is not the past that defines but the cross of Christ that refines us;
waiting to hear from your grown son who hasn't contacted you in years;
waiting to hear from anyone who could give you any information on where she might be, the daughter who left;

waiting to watch your son stand up and make a promise to love his wife as Christ loved the church;
waiting for your 1st grandchild, 3rd, 8th or 10th;

waiting for healing -
healing for the grown daughter who has children of who own and still carries the wounds from her mother;
healing for the grown daughter who remembers words that have hurt and bruised, actions that have left scars;

in all this mess, pain, loss, hurt, grief.
when you sit and wonder why you can't seem to keep up,

when overwhelming waves threaten.
keep waiting,
though the joys and pains of life.
you will gain strength again.

keep waiting for the promises to unfold around you -
He promises that those who wait will rise up on wings like eagles;
keep waiting until you understand what hope really means.

hope is -
learning to love again after being scarred,
learning to walk again after you've tripped up,
learning to see again after you have been blind sighted,
learning to breathe again after the wind has been knocked out of your sails ,
learning to trust again after your heart has been broken,
learning to live again after you've tasted grief.

Hope is Christ who died was buried and rose again! 

He has conquered. 

Dear woman, 

Wherever life finds you today. You are engraved on the palm of His hand.

You are not forgotten. 

You are loved by a God who is faithfully working,
moving and holding all things together. 

"Our soul waits for the Lord;
He is our help and our shield.
For our heart is glad in Him, because we trust in His holy Name. 
Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, 
even as we hope in You. "
(Psalm 33:20-22)

May this Mother's Day be one of hope. 


Rachel Hughes is redeemed by the blood of Jesus shed on the cross, and blessed by His unfailing love and mercy. She sees the evidences of His faithfulness in her life as she walks hand in hand with her husband, loving, praying, and growing together in the joys and sorrows of life. 
She teaches her children from home. Her coffee cup assists her in this pursuit.  
Their days are filled with chaos and laughter. 
She loves motherhood.
She has a love/hate relationship with laundry. She can't seem to keep socks from disappearing.  
She has three boys in mismatched socks and one
girl who loves to sing, a 3 year old version of herself.

She loves looking up at the sky or sitting by a river.
It gives her time to reflect with joy that she knows her Redeemer lives and in the end He will stand on the earth and she will stand with Him on that day.

photo credit: top photo by Rachel Hughes


  1. Beautifully written. Thank you for writing it Rachel and thank you for sharing it Rebekah.

  2. Thinking of you today Jennie. Mother's day brings about different emotions to each woman.
    It seems easier to remember only one part of this day with the giving of flowers or cards. And yet God remembers the heart of a woman who waits and trusts in Him.
    I believe He sings over her. (Zephaniah 3:17)


  3. I had a lot of tears when I read this poem. I could almost find someone I love in every description (or myself). Thanks, is very powerful. And thanks for posting it, Rebekah!

  4. This is a poem that truly can touch the heart of any mom no matter what season they are in. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing with us. Rebekah, thank you for sharing your sister with us.


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