My Mother Spoke

In the nearly six months since Mama has been gone, it has been so endearing to experience the pure intentions of others and their desire to comfort us with words. Words remembering Mama and words forecasting what she is possibly doing with her time now.  We giggle a little (ok, a lot) when people assure us of our mother's presence like a guardian angel hovering over our shoulders. Secretly, we really hope she is filling her time with much more glorious happenings then following us around on a daily basis. In fact, I KNOW she is filling her time with far more important coffee dates with Paul, Peter, Moses, David (she loved David), Judy Wilkerson, Dee Williams, Joshua Paul, Shaylin Marie, and the countless others (including a special child she never met) who have gone before!

But yesterday, I am pretty sure mom asked God for an opportunity to come take a ride with me in my chevy venture. I was all alone, which is totally rare, and she saw my heart needed some much needed "Mama comfort!" I told you earlier this week I really needed to talk to her. This week, she talked to me.

When I got in the van I turned on 88.5 (my mom's all time favorite radio station) and Pastor Chuck Swindoll was speaking (my mom's all time favorite pastor, besides my dad, OF COURSE :) and he was speaking on the family (my mom's all time favorite topic). Chuck was using an Edith Schaffer quote (my mom's role model for the foundation and shaping of our home). It was like the trifecta of my mother's entire being shouting through the radio at me.

The entire 15 minutes I was in the car *alone*, Chuck Swindoll preached on the value of creating memories with our families. Each home viewed as a sacred museum of memories; the sweet memories as well as the very painful memories. Edith Schaeffer then correlated my role with the role of a curator of a museum. It was a breath of fresh air. A clear reminder that while I am in the trenches of motherhood right now; I am creating, upholding, preserving, protecting, standing guard over the very memories my children will carry with them forever. That seemed so much more endearing and valuable than the way I was viewing my role this week as "forever house maid to 4 slobs who can do nothing for themselves" ;)

On our trip to Virginia last month, we toured the National Gallery of Art. If you know me, then you know I have the artistic ability of a 4 year old. I can draw a mean stick figure and that's about all. Going into our tour I thought this would be a good cultural experience for our family. Something I could brag about to my art friends to make me feel more "artsy". I was thinking only people with hip recycled clothes and art history degrees would actually get something out of this place. WRONG! I was moved to tears numerous times (and my children moved to nervous hilarity as we passed the naked statue room) in our short thirty minutes there.  I could have spent days inside of that museum. It was awe-inspiring.

We also got scolded by the museum security for getting too close to the precious pieces and showing intent to touch. Imagine that, the Littlejohns and Bentzs getting into trouble?

All this museum talk reminded me how much more treasured my children are to me then those breath taking pieces. How they too, need someone in their life protecting them from people, propaganda, and agendas that have ill intentions to "touch" their vulnerable hearts and minds. They need a curator just like Monet, Kadish, Abrams, Babbit, Rubens, need a curator.

And that's what sweet Mama was telling yesterday in our mini-van trip, "You are museum curator. You are right where you are suppose to be. Your work is valuable. Your time well spent. Pieces of true art and moments of real history are being made in the confines of your home museum."

And more than ever before in my life, I know the importance of memories. Because sometimes I spend my today's curled up in the lingering scent of memories. Because sometimes awful diseases only leave the mind the ability to live in memories. And in those memories are museums of beautiful worth.

So here is to a day well spent in museum building!

~Sara