Dear Mama

Dear Momma,

'Ma-Ma' was most likely one of the very first words you encouraged me to learn. And then we referred to you as Mommy and then mommy faded out the older we got and you became Mom. When we were mad at you, we called you Mother and when we called your name from a distance it was always, Ma! So, now it's back to Momma on this day again. Where it all began. I wanted to share my thanks and appreciation for you from the beginning, until now, Momma. 

First of all, I need to account for all the days, moments, and memories that you'll never forget, but are far beyond my memory and remembrance. Like the sleepless nights you had when I was a newborn and the many times I kicked and screamed and a kiss, a cuddle, a swing, a bottle, or not even a pacifier  could get my cry to seize. And with that I add, thank you for your patience. Your patience in waiting for me to crawl, to walk, to talk, to say the alphabet, to learn how to kick a ball, to finish the first through the twelfth grade, the patience in learning my lessons when it came to parties, to boys, to managing my monies. Being you takes a lot of patience. 

I want to thank you for all the things you ever did that may have seemed to go unnoticed by Nate, Dad and I, but we sure did notice them all. Because without you and those things you did for us, we were more than your average dysfunctional family. We were lost without your order. You are like the glue that keeps us all in line and close together. In fact I'm going to start calling you Elmer, as in Elmer glue. Because you're not only the glue for our family. But for your brothers and sisters, your late mom and dad, and your friends. You are amazing, Elmer Momma!

We notice that you work a 9-5, come home and before you even think about kicking your feet up its diving into the fridge and getting a head start on preparing dinner for everyone. It's starting and finishing a load or two of laundry. It's ironing Dad's clothes for work. It's preparing lunches for everyone's tomorrow lunches. It's balancing the checkbook. It's doing the dishes. It's finishing any odds and ends around the house, doing any odds and ends for everyone in the family before you FINALLY sit down and kick your feet up. I'm sorry for the times I woke you up when your head finally hit the back of the couch after a long day where I wish now that I had the strength to carry you into your bed and tuck you in too. Because that's what you deserved, Momma. 

Tucking in. You were always good at that too, Mom. Thanks for always making me feel safe. For being there on the days I was sick and home from school. You made chicken noodle soup like it was nobody's business, you already had a vomit bucket near by, and a pack of ice or heating pad for wherever the aches and pains were. Thank you for tucking me in at night and reading me a bedtime story and singing "Who's that Doggy in The Window". Thanks for always making sure I had an extra pair of gloves, earmuffs, socks, and pants during the coldest weeks of soccer season. I thought you were crazy, but you were always right and I always needed those extras. How did you always know?! Man, you were good at knowing everything. It was like you knew me better than myself a lot of the times. 

Thank you for teaching me the nursery rhymes, for taking me to McDonalds and letting me have some juice here and there. Cuz a kid should get to try those things every now and then. Nowadays you're judged and considered a bad mom for letting your kids try some McDonalds French fries. Lincoln will get to try some French fries, Mom, I promise. But only on occasion. Thank you for teaching me that money came with good hard work by giving me a small allowance for my chores around home. Thank you for taking me to every Girl Scout event, every softball, basketball and soccer practice and game until I was old enough to drive myself. Thank you for every pair of tennis shoes you bought me when now I know you were giving because you wanted to see the joy in my face when little did I know you had to pick up some hours to pay for those shoes. Thank you for taking me to church and teaching me about right from wrong. Thank you for being a mom I look up to and one I want to be like someday. I know some daughters that want to be anything but a resemblance of their mother's and my heart hurts for them. Being like you is awesome.

Dancing like you is not so awesome, but it's fun! You find fun in anything. You encourage a board game at a gathering while everyone else wants to sit and watch TV or be on their phones. You're a people person. You taught me that it's okay to laugh at myself sometimes. You taught me that it's okay to have fun in my own company sometimes. When times were tough in grade school you knew the best medicine for us; a good ole comic book with a daily joke to start us off on the right foot. You made learning fun. You led by example that you can have just as much, if not more fun in life without drugs or alcohol. You taught me that if I'm not having fun, then why am I giving my time to something I don't enjoy. There were times I used to think you were anything but fun, but now I consider you my best friend. Best friends have lots of fun, Mom. 

Most of all Mom, thank you for giving me all of these tools so that I can be a great mom for Lincoln. The goofy stuff really works! Where I thought Lincoln would look at me crazy, he just laughs with me instead. When he cries and there isn't a damned thing I can do to stop it, you always remind me to relax, and that it too shall pass. When the days seem long you remind me that it's all worth it. That every sleepless night, every moment of frustration and every moment there's a challenge and I feel like a failure, that it WILL get better and it is worth it. I know you're right, because everything you did for me, whether it was what you thought was best or not, was more than good enough for me in my opinion.

There's no handbook individualized enough for Lincoln on how to be the best mom for him, but you taught me a lot and I've taken those memories of ours and have been creating new ones with him. I know you never gave yourself enough credit, nor do I give myself enough, but I think we do a pretty good job at being 'Mom'. I'm happy, Lincoln's happy, and that's something to account for. If it weren't for you, I don't know where I'd be in this journey of motherhood I felt so ill prepared for. 

Mom, what you may not know is that I pray for you every day and I thank God that He chose you to be my mother. Thanks, Mom. I love you. And Happy Mother's Day every damn day! You deserve a celebration in your name 365 days out of the year. 

Love Always,

Liz

Why Is He Not Answering My Prayers?

There are some things in life that are just hard to understand. All within the same week I attended a wake for a three year old child, I talked with a family member whom I discovered lost a child to infertility, I've witnessed the death of a marriage that is occurring, and it makes me ask why. Why do people have to go through such pain and hardships when others seem to have it all going on good? Why after endless prayers over and over does God not grant the desires of our hearts? No one should ever have to experience the pain of losing a child. It hurts even worse knowing they are a great family, and that she was and is a great mother to her children, and that they do good things for other people. Why them? Or those couples that experience infertility; why them? Why give the drug addict who can't take care of a child and who doesn't want a child first before the woman begging in her prayers for a child whom can wholeheartedly take care of that child? How does one marriage survive infidelity, but another marriage fails because they just never see eye to eye? Why do bad things happen to good people?

The questions for our unanswered prayers are endless. Our search for understanding is endless. 

The mother who lost her child, how does she move forward in life without her child? I witnessed an immeasurable amount of strength in that mother as she so graciously gave her precious time and attention to all the concerned and sympathizing beings in the room that evening. How did she do that?! I asked. She was so strong. And then she started telling me that her young child served her purpose here on earth and that something really great is going to come of her loss. (Not exactly in those words, but along those lines.) I was in awe of how she was so positive and hopeful when all I wanted to do was hug her and cry with her. Her strength was admirable.

When discovering the family member who lost their child also, I was in awe of her strength. I had no idea, but I saw her positive post as if life was going really well for her. And then when she shared her news with me, I was again in awe by her strength, her wisdom and her faith about her situation. 

And to the marriage that was ending, her hope in life moving on for her and that things were going to work out, even if a divorce wasn't what she wanted. And even when her marriage wasn't finalized by divorce yet, she was already speaking hopeful things into her future. I was again, taken back by her strength. 

Watching and hearing all of this happen in the same week posed that question we've all asked ourselves at some time or another; why isn't God answering my prayers? You may not believe in God; to each is own. But you may also be asking yourself, why is this happening to me? 

The answer is; you may never know. The mothers and fathers who lose their children may never understand why their child's life was cut all too short and why they get to live on. The woman who's body is struggling to prepare itself for a child may never understand why her blessing is on hold. And 50% of men and women that end in divorce may never understand why they didn't remain on the other side of the 50%; blissfully married. They may never understand, but I know they sure as heck are calling out for answers. Why me? Why can't the pain go away? Why can't the bad memories be erased? How long do I have to suffer? Will this ever get better? And the question I shamefully admit I've asked God one too many times; if you're so big and mighty, why can't you take this hurt away from me? Why aren't you listening to me?

I've gone through gut wrenching, heart tearing pain before. I've felt dead in an alive world. I've asked over and over why me? I've asked over and over, when will I move on from the pain? And here I am today, often times still reminded of the pain. There are days I still feel broken. Everything seems perfectly puzzled together right now in my life, but my heart is still reminded of the hurt. How much longer do I have to remember the hurt? I ask in prayer. 

After a long time of what felt like suffering, I've learned one thing about my trials and I've noticed the same thing in each and every person that has experienced trials too. That no matter the storm, they survived. And not only did they survive, but they came out stronger. And not only were they stronger, but they were more patient, more understanding, more forgiving, and more kind. And for me, I see my growth and transformation as a blessing. It was necessary for me to go through the pain in order to be where I am today. Where I am today may not be where I wanted to be, but who knows how I'd be mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually had things gone my way. I'm actually afraid to know what that would look like. Listening to God wasn't so bad after all. 

My testimony was formed from my pain and suffering. My relationship, not just my beliefs in God, but my intimate relationship with Him was formed from my pain and suffering. And I have to somewhat believe that maybe that's exactly why I had to go through my pain and suffering. Maybe I had to go through some hardship so I would have a testimony to share with others and that may even help others. Maybe I had to go through some hardship so I would get to know God a little better than I once did. Maybe He wanted to know me a lot more and He took the one thing he knew would get my attention the most and it would either force me to choose life in Him or death on earth. Maybe, just maybe, my hardship was meant to be for the best. 

I have to believe that bad things happen to good people for the best. To help them grow and to help them strengthen. And most of all, to prepare them for their future blessings.

I heard this analogy once that I'd like to share.

God wants to anoint us with His blessings. The term anoint means to smear or cover with. So God wants to cover us with His blessings. Think of our blessings as paint on a wall. The paint is long lasting. But before the paint is put on the wall, the wall is primed. The wall is primed so the paint sticks better to the wall and so the paint will last longer. God primes us before He paints us. In layman's terms; He takes us through some shit before anointing us with His blessings. (That's not the analogy and terminology that I originally heard, but sharing 'hardship' once more felt as if I was undermining my real feelings behind the pain) God puts us through some really hard shit, but He has a purpose to it all. It's so we are primed and ready to be painted and anointed with His blessings.

I understand some of you may not believe  or even want to understand that analogy, but hiding behind my faith and not speaking out about Gods glory was not my destiny. I was called to share His name with others and I was called to speak out about Him. For many years I sat quietly and humbly in my faith, and that was okay too, but God had plans to use me. And I can't help but think that He allowed those things to happen in my life so He could better use me. 

I've had friends and even family ask and wonder how I picked up the pieces in my life and moved forward. They are in awe of my strength; to which I remind them that my strength is not my own. And what I can't say for others because their beliefs are not for me to comment on, I can say for myself. What I can say for myself, is that without my God, Elizabeth Anne Pitney would not exist in this world today. I wanted to take my ticket out of this world. Leaving seemed much more painless than staying at the time. And when He knew I'd be thinking that way, He put something in my life at just the perfect time to ensure I would not take my own way out and to ensure that instead of choosing death, I'd choose life in Him. That blessing He bestowed upon me in the midst of what felt like death, was new life. In the midst of all of my pain and suffering He whispered to me and said, "Everything will be all right my dear child, you may rest in my presence." That new life was the news I received of Lincoln. When I felt like leaving, God knew it. But to keep me here, He said, try again, only this time, you will not only be taking just one of my children, but two from me. As frustrating as it can sometimes be, He knows my heart better than I know my own. And He knew I wasn't going anywhere with that child inside of me.

So I sit here today and share with you all just another segment of my testimony to which I am anxiously awaiting for my book to be finished, and reveal the rest of it. Can I be honest and frank? I used to hate writing. But little did I know that it would become my gift to help others. Little did I know it would become my way to express the words on my heart that go unspoken. Little did I know that God would take something I once despised doing, and turn it into something I am finally passionate about. I've felt I've searched so long for my passion and without even realizing it, it was uncovered throughout my hardship. Writing became my means of communicating most effectively to the ones I love most. It became my therapy. And now it's become my gift and talent that I will hopefully be able to use to help others.

I say this all to hopefully give you some hope in your current storms in life. Whatever hardship you're going through, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. There's dry land and beautiful flowers replanted after the storm is over. Your faith, your entire life and everything in it may be shaken, but you'll come out stronger in the end. You will be a better person. 

Your tests in life may become your testimonies to share and help others. Your mess of a life just may one day turn into your message to help others. Just remind yourself in the midst of your storm that you are being primed right now for something really great that is coming your way. I am just an average joe on this planet. But I have a calling and a higher purpose than I once thought I was set here on earth to do. You too, have a higher purpose and sometimes, as much as it hurts to go through the pain and suffering, it's necessary to ho through to get you to that higher purpose you're here for.

God never left my prayers unanswered, He just answered them differently than what I imagined them to be. He reminded me that He has my heart and my best interest at His heart. He was the only one that was able to make me feel loved the way I desired and He was the only one that could heal my broken heart and patch up my open wounds. He is the reason I am who I am today and He is the reason I have what I have today. 

Those dark days still want to creep up on me, but choosing life in Him has helped me survive those dark reminders. 

My prayer for you all is that you too can press forward in hopes that you will discover your purpose and your testimony through all your hardship. 

May you be blessed. 

Post Pregnancy Pampering

     Ok, so prior to baby I always did my hair, finger nails, pedicure, and makeup...post baby....well, let's just say the hair and makeup are still being done, but the toes, honey, the toes are just happy it's winter, and the nails, well, they needed a breather, or at least that's what I am telling myself. It is truly insane how much our lives change as moms. Everyone told me it would happen, but I shrugged it off thinking there would be time for everything.
     Here I am, with my son being a few short weeks away from turning one, and I am finally thinking I can find the time to pamper myself again. I never imagined I would walk out of the house without my nails done. In fact I was known for always having a great manicure, and having done them myself, I was proud of that. I jokingly tell friends and family that I replaced nail polish and cuticle oil for diaper rash cream which can currently be detected in my nail beds.
     For awhile I just didn't feel very pretty. The sleepless nights, unkept self, yoga pants around the clock, hair in a bun, all just started to get to me. I didn't feel like a "girl", but I sure as hell felt like a mom, and that isn't a bad thing. As the days rolled into weeks, and weeks into months, my son reminded me what was really important, and that's unconditional love. I realized hey, he doesn't care if my nails are done, if I'm wearing the latest fashion trend, or if I have on mascara and lip gloss (he hates it on his cheeks BTW). He loves me NO MATTER WHAT. He is just as excited to see mommy first thing in the morning when I'm looking like a hot mess, or later in the day when I have managed to somewhat get myself together, and it's amazing. He makes me feel like the most wanted person on the planet.
     Nothing compares to the way he lights up when he sees me, and there is no feeling in the world like the one I get when he walks to me with so much excitement he's practically running and his arms are in the air and the smile is from ear to ear! It's easier now that he is getting older and all of us are sleeping. I know eventually I will get my sexy back, and the hair and nails will prevail, but until then, I am relishing in the moments of pure happiness he gives me and there is no better feeling than to be loved for exactly who you are.
     My son is a constant reminder of what is most important in life and that's LOVE. The best kind of love there is. So don't worry fellow mommies, guardians, and caregivers...I always remind everyone that these moments pass in a flash, and it won't always be this way, so if you've got the time for the pampering go ahead and pamper away, and if you don't, well, don't worry, you will one day soon, and until then just remember what matters...In the words of The Beatles... All You Need Is Love.

In the Blink of an Eye

Yesterday was an amazing day...My son had the first day of the last month of his first year of life as he turned 11 months old. As I stuck his numbered sticker on his outfit to capture the moment in a photo it hit me how much he has grown and changed in what is truly such a short time in life.

I have always loved babies; their cuteness, their smell, how cuddly they are, everything about them, but nothing compares to the love I have for my own baby. I am blown away by the way babies grow and develop so much in their first year of life! There is no other point in our lives where we experience such dramatic growth and change in a year's time. It is truly wondrous to watch him as he makes new discoveries and tries to figure things out; I am in love with it.

Thinking back to my pregnancy and to the day he was born, like many moms before me, I wondered if I would be a good mom, if I could handle it all, if it would change me? I would have to answer yes, to all of those questions. Even with all of the ups and downs and learning curves, I think I'm doing great, and every time I look at my son I reaffirm that to myself. It's important to remind yourself that you are a great mom because you will question yourself a million times over, and its ok.

At the end of the day it doesn't matter how fast your baby walks, talks, crawls, whatever. He or she will get their when it is their time to get there, and all I can tell you is don't rush it. I see now how quickly time really flies. I remember holding my new born and he was so tiny, now his body stretches across my lap and its a wonder he was in my belly 11 months ago! I miss that little new born, but I love my little buddy. It's a constant pull at my heartstrings...the nostalgia and living in the moment.

We are so fortunate in this day and age to have cameras on hand constantly. We can capture so much and go back and look at it when ever we want! I love to watch the videos from when he was a new born...the best part is, he likes to watch them with me now too :-) You may not listen to this message now, but if it is at all possible, stop what you're doing, swoop up your son(s) or daughter(s), hug them close, breath them in, and be in that moment because they are in the past in the blink of an eye.

I Love My Son, But I Love Him More

It was 4am in the morning that I was looking down at the little human being attached so closely to me. It still amazes me that I carried him inside of my body for 9 months. Now he's here, and he just keeps growing. Life is truly a beautiful image. I am literally growing life through my body; what a powerful concept! When he one day stands over 6 foot tall, I know I will still find myself in amazement at how little he once was and how time has transformed him into the handsome young man he will one day become.

As I was staring at his tiny little feet and his precious little toes, and I watched both his chest and belly expand with each breath, I started imagining Lincoln as the young man he will one day be. Those tiny toes and feet will be size 12's before I know it. That chest will be broad and his abdomen defined. He will no longer be able to fit across my lap and sleep so peacefully. 

That's what little sleep will do to you sometimes. You start thinking silly things. Except these silly thoughts that are so far into the future are really right before my eyes. 

At 4am I started thinking of the young man I want Lincoln to be when he grows up and the part that I will play in that. This Sunday is a special day for both Lincoln and we as his parents. Lincoln will be dedicated into the church where he will then decide when he is old enough and knows the Lord for himself, to be baptized. 

I wasn't raised the way we are choosing to raise Lincoln. I was baptized at Lincoln's age. I had no recollection other than pictures of my baptism. That's the way I was raised in the Catholic Church. All of my life growing up I was given opportunities to learn more about Jesus and what exactly He did for us; for me. But I wasn't receptive to those teachings throughout all those years. 

I wanted to be anywhere else but 'boring' ole church with my family. (I can see God shaking His head at me right now for the times I used to call his home, boring) We had religion classes from the time I was in kindergarten all throughout high school. Only when I was in my grade school years, religion classes took place every day of the week; whereas in my high school years we only attended once a week. And because it wasn't as consistent throughout the week for me in my young adolescent years, I wasn't seeing the importance in those teachings. I used to say I was going to church with my friends and instead of going to church, we'd drive around and drink beer. Now if that wasn't enough to upset the Lord, I don't know what was. Who was I to think I was too good for church?

Selfish; I was a selfish teenager. When I went off to college, life got a little more challenging in many ways and I decided I wanted to explore that area of my life again. Except every time I walked into a church, I didn't feel I belonged there. I didn't know all of the songs, I didn't know all of the prayers that were said in union in the congregation. I felt out of place. So once again, I stopped attending church. 

October 12th of 2014 I decided to get baptized again in the church I was finally able to call my 'home'; New Salem Baptist Church. I felt this lingering notion from God to get baptized again as an adult. I was ready to accept Christ into my life wholeheartedly on that day. I have never turned my back on Him ever again after that day. I realize His importance and His presence in my life. It took me awhile, but He was ready when I was ready. What a selfless God I serve to accept me after all the times I turned my shoulder on Him. 

So it is with excitement, but also great fear that I dedicate my son to the church this weekend. There's a lot of responsibility on my plate; on our plate, as parents to teach Lincoln all we know about the good Lord. I desire for him to accept Jesus into his heart at a young age. I desire to see his love for Jesus resemble the love I have for Jesus; but experiencing that love at a much younger age. I don't want to see my son go through life like I did; waiting until his 20's or later yet, to accept God into his heart. And because I am his mother, I will make sure that does not happen.

It starts with Ryan and I. We read the Bible to Lincoln every night. We take him to church every Sunday. If we aren't taking him to church, we listen to the sermon online with him. We play praise and worship songs and sing to him. We pray over him every morning. We pray every time he eats from a bottle or from the breast. We are doing all we can to lay the foundation for his most important relationship in life; His relationship with Jesus Christ.

I desire for my son to be a god-fearing, loving, kind, selfless young man. I desire for him to be a giver, a servant, a people pleaser. Society will tell you to please yourself before others and convince you that you actually deserve to be pleased first. But the Lord tells us to please others before ourselves and He reminds us that we don't 'deserve' anything. That's what His grace is. He gives grace not because we deserve it, but because He's the only one that loves us enough to see past all our wrongdoings. Nothing is promised for us here on earth, but society sure wants us to believe otherwise. 

If I put my focus on growing Lincoln's relationship with Jesus Christ, I know I will have done my will in my role of motherhood over Lincoln. This does not ensure that he is going to be a perfect little angel and live a sinless life; no, not at all. What it does mean is that Lincoln will understand how to treat others; like his mother and father, and his peers. He will understand how to love others; like his future wife. He will understand how to respect others; like his elders and his teachers. He will make bad choices at times, but he will know that his Heavenly Father loves him unconditionally and will forgive him over and over if He has to.

As I drifted off into my own sleep again this morning, I thanked my Heavenly Father for the gift of loving and teaching this child about life and about our ultimate goal of making it into eternal life with Him. There is no greater miracle than that of the creation of a child. This miracle is what has made life go on from generation to the next. I praise God for the gift of His son, Lincoln Alexander Hunter, to me.