Mother’s Day with all the vowels

mothers-day-gift

By Amanda Cleary Eastep

Sometimes on a day you could and should sleep in, you wake up at 4 a.m. instead, because, well, that cup of peach tea at 8:30 p.m. …and that thing or 10 on your mind that you need to pray about. So you wake up God, too, who like a patient parent enfolds you beneath the edge of her own warm blanket while you recount in excruciating detail your nightmares.

Then you read a Kindle book under the sheets so you don’t disturb your husband, but that doesn’t put you back to sleep and you realize the rising sun is wrapping its fingers around the edge of your sun-blocking curtains. So you give up because your stomach is grumpy, and there is a shredded wheat biscuit promising satisfaction in a bowl of milk and honey.

Oh, and the kitchen counter probably should be wiped down before 6:30 a.m.

In the dim light of the living room, I see a small Christmas bag on the floor that says JOY and also a few crumbs from our “house church” gathering the night before when our pastor talked about God’s invitation to us to call him Abba, “daddy,” and how we don’t have to go all Old Testament and leave out the vowels because his name is too holy to speak aloud.

mothers-day-gift

We can come to him with grubby fingers and noise and wandering and tripping over our little brothers and blaming them for our falling down. And no matter what our fathers or our mothers are like, He/She/God is all and both and better.

When I open my eyes each morning, refocusing on which hurdles remain from the day before–unsettled arguments, lingering worries, that one (2, 3, 4) bill that never gets paid all the way down–he is standing there like a first-time parent who feels compelled to make sure his child is still breathing.

We can say Daddy, not G-d, but Abba, which also happens to be my second favorite band from the 70s. We can call him that even at the end of a day of sinful thoughts, harsh words, big doubts, shitty attitudes, and bad words.

I’m thankful my children can call on me and don’t leave the vowel out of M-m…that they know they’re loved by me and by a capital “G” with an “o” in the middle God.

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4 thoughts on “Mother’s Day with all the vowels

  1. Enjoyed reading this blog for so many reason. A personal relationship with God. I wonder if it was easy for me to find since I had such a close relationship with my earthly father, the one I called daddy. Someone once said to me I was angry with God and I denied that. Today I find comfort in knowing there will be times when I am angry with Him and he patiently waits for me to work through it all because as we know He is always wanting the very best for His Children.

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    1. I’ve wondered the same thing because of the great relationship I have with my dad. But that’s what the Word of God is for, to show and tell us about the character of God, no matter what our earthly parents may be like.

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  2. Yes! When I focus on the holiness of God, I leave out that ‘o’ and see Him as a stern taskmaster. But that holiness is only part of His character. He’s also our full-of-love Father. Praise Him for the new covenant that gives us the right to call Him Abba! How much we need to hear this!

    And at the beginning of your post I kept thinking about that verse from Psalm 127: “In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat– for He grants sleep to those He loves.” We don’t have to worry about those things, do we? He loves us! But when the pressures of life DO wake us early in the morning, well, He’s there to comfort and encourage.

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    1. Thanks so much for the comment and for the follow, Jebraun. Welcome to this space! And thanks for sharing the verse this brought to mind for you.

      The idea of being invited to so intimately refer to a God who may seem too far away, too holy, too angry, too unreachable is hard to comprehend, but thankfully we aren’t asked to understand!

      Liked by 1 person

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