The Mom lessons.... "Stop comparing"

I'll never forget that moment.  The moment that I knew Mom was different.  

I was probably in the 3rd or 4th grade and I had invited a girlfriend over to my house to play on a Saturday afternoon.  It was the first time she had been in our home.  As she entered our house, I remember her looking around our den with wide-eyes and saying, "Wow.  Nothing in your house matches."  Wh-at???    It was if my eyes had been opened for the first time to my surroundings.  She was right.  Nothing did "match" in our house.   

Let me describe our little den.  Red shag carpet. (Now, keep in mind, it was the 70's and actually red shag carpet was pretty cool.)  Bright turquoise chair.  Gold recliner.  Bright pink pillows scattered around on a paisley couch and love seat with every color in the universe swirling around in the pattern.  Maybe the loud paisley couch was supposed to tie in the turquoise, red, gold and pink, but it wasn't working.... trust me.  Two end tables at either end of the couch, neither which were the same, and a coffee table that didn't match either of the end tables.  And of course, the broken birds everywhere. (check previous blog post for explanation on the broken birds.)

After that little girl left, I remember asking Mom, "Why don't you buy things that match when you decorate?"  She looked at me like I had just asked the silliest question ever, and said, "Well honey, WHO decides what matches and what doesn't?  It all matches to ME."  However, I decided right then and there that I when I grew up and had my own house, I would buy things that matched.  I would make sure I didn't ever feel the embarassment of being accused of GASP not matching!!  

Fast forward years later.... I was married.  I had bought my own home and had carefully decorated it with modern matching furniture.   Mother came to visit and she looked around, obviously not that impressed.  Then she said, "You know, i don't really have room for that turquoise chair in my den anymore and I thought I'd give it to you."  NO!  NOT THE TURQUOISE CHAIR!!   I tried to hide my distain at the thought of that chair ruining my carefully decorated living room and I tried to gracefully decline the offer as I sheepishly said,  "Uh, Mom... gee... that's awful nice of you, but I'm not sure it would.... uh.... match....  the rest of my furniture."   She looked at me with that look she would give me when she thought I was being ridiculous and said, "Well good grief Marcia, why on earth do you think everything has to match?"  At that point, years of frustration came out and I said, "Well, GEE Mother, have you ever looked around at other people's homes? They buy things that MATCH.  Things that GO TOGETHER.  What is wrong with trying to decorate like NORMAL PEOPLE do????"   I'm sure she wanted to punch me right then and there, but she just shook her head and said, "If you go through your life looking around at other people and trying to copy what they do, you will never be satisfied.  Marcia, you have to stop comparing yourself and your life to others."  

I didn't "get" it then.  I do now. 

 This past Christmas, I asked for Sarah Young's daily devotional book, "Jesus Calling".  My youngest son, Samuel gave it to me.  I have treasured that book everyday.  While holding my Mother's hand during the last days of her life on earth, this book kept me at peace.  It spoke to me.  It nurtured me.  It brought peace to me and Mom.  We read the words together and it reminded us that we were meant for another world and Mom was on her way there, which was a reason to celebrate.  

Last week, I read a page in this book that reminded me so much of Mom's words to me so many years ago.  "Stop comparing."

"Stop comparing yourself with other people.  This produces feelings of pride or inferiority; sometimes, a mixture of both.  I lead each of My children along a path that is uniquely tailor-made for him or her. Comparing is not only wrong; it is also meaningless."  

Such truth in that.  And a lesson that took me many, many years to really believe.  But I truly understand it now.  Comparing ourselves or our "paths" to others will only produce frustration and discontent, OR a false sense of accomplishment.  Either way, it's not good for us.   Even though I know that is truth, I still struggle with it daily.  I'm sure many of you do too.  We live in a world that is ALL ABOUT comparing, so it's hard to not fall into that trap.  How do you resist the urge to compare???  Please share with the rest of the class.   :-)

Oh... one more little thing about Mom.....When the time came to move Mother into an assisted-living apartment here in Nashville, I remember taking a tour of several apartments we could choose from.  Mother was unhappy about moving out of her little house and into a new apartment, so she was pretty grumpy and being uncooperative about picking an apartment.  We had looked at several in the bldg, and then the leasing manager said, "Now there is one more apartment and it's a prime location, but many people have passed because they didn't like the color of the carpet." All the other apartments had neutral color carpeting. Beige or taupe. Boring!   As we walked into Apt. #333, Mother's eyes immediately lit up!  "It's so pretty!  I love it!", she exclaimed.  The leasing agent looked surprised, but relieved that she had finally found someone who wanted an apartment with TURQUOISE carpet.   God knew she was coming and had that place waiting just for her.  :-)

Much love.... M

The Mom lessons...."Beautiful in the Broken"

Anyone who knew my Mom had a story about her.  She was a hoot.   But she didn't really mean to be. She was just one of the most unique people that God ever created... I kid you not.  All my friends have constantly asked me to write a book about her.  The "Mom stories" are classic with my friends and family, and maybe someday I'll start that book.  In the meantime, I guess I'll have to let some blogposts do the talking for now.   So let the "Mom lessons" begin....

She saw beautiful in the broken.

One of the things that used to drive me NUTS about my Mom was her penchant for buying broken things.  Our house was seriously decorated with things she bought out of bargain bins from stores all over the country.  I remember one of her favorite places to shop was the back corner of Kirkland's, where they would literally have big barrels full of broken or damaged merchandise, all marked off to a fraction of the cost.   She would literally spend hours digging through those barrels, picking out things like ceramic birds with a wing or tail broken off... or refrigerator magnets that now had the magnet missing off the back.  There was a drawer in the kitchen full of those magnets.  I would always ask her, "Mom what is the point of buying these refrigerator magnets when there is no magnet on the back so you can't put them ON the refrigerator?".  "Well," she would say,  "One of these days, I'm going to buy some magnets and glue the new magnets on the back, so that I'll be able to use them."   Apparently, at some point after I grew up and left home, she found the time to get those magnets and glue them on... however, she didn't center the magnets on the backs properly, so one weekend, when I came home for a visit from college, I found a ton of new magnets, hanging on the fridge, but every single one of them was crooked.  Gravity pulling one side down farther than the other because the weights are out of whack.  Did she care??  Not in the least.  She loved her crooked refrigerator magnets.   Of course being the little diva/brat that I was back then, I would always make some mean comment about how awful they looked and why couldn't she just buy regular refrigerator magnets like the rest of the world does....  and she would just roll her eyes and say, "Why do you have to always want things done like everyone else does them?"  .. and I would say something smart-ass like, "Well, there MIGHT be a reason why EVERYONE ELSE does things the same way Mom.", then I'd roll my eyes and storm into my room.  I just didn't "get" it back then.   I just didn't "get" her.  But now I do.

She saw beautiful in the broken.

The ceramic birds... each one with a little flaw.  A wing broken off.  A chip in the tail.

The potted plants.... each carefully placed around our house so that no one would actually notice the big hole in the back of the pot.  

The cross-stich pillows that said, "God bless this hous" or "We come" (instead of Welcome) because one of the letters in the cross-stiching had come out.

All of those things drove me NUTS as a child.  I used to say "What IS this place?  The land of the misfit toys???"    Why can't we live like normal people?????

I get it now.

She saw beautiful in the broken.

Just like Jesus.

What a gift.  

What a legacy.

What other people thought was trash, she saw as a treasure.

I think we should all see the world more like my Mom did... and like Jesus did.  He didn't turn away from someone because they weren't beautiful in the world's eyes.   He didn't give up on someone because they were flawed.  He didn't reject anyone because they might be "damaged".   No, Jesus was drawn to the flawed, the damaged, the broken. 

Yesterday, I was trying to figure out what I was going to do with her broken ceramic bird collection.  "WHO would want that?". I wondered.   Today, I wouldn't part with it for a million dollars.  And when people see those birds at my house, i'll have a little story to tell 'em...   :-)

I love ya'll..... M