The Thing About Mamas

It's been two weeks since my mom's gone back to Korea after coming to take care of me when Matthias was born, and I miss her terribly.  I was more emotional saying goodbye this time saying than when she flew back after Jedidiah's birth.  I think the reason for that is because now that I've had some experience as a mom myself, I see so much LOVE in everything she does.

Anyone who knows my mom, or has even just observed her on some occasions, knows that she is gangsta!  But those who know her closely know how soft she is inside.  That hard exterior coupled with cultural differences caused some major friction in our relationship growing up.  Her way of loving was by pushing me to do better; but instead of love, I saw criticism.  She was always busy providing for our family in some way; but rather than seeing the heart behind her actions, all I saw was her busyness.  This is not to say that she didn't have her tender moments, but to point to the fact that I didn't understand the way my mom loves. 

 My mom coaching my cousin (left), sister (center) and little me in traditional Korean bow, wearing traditional Korean costumes (1986)

It wasn't until I became pregnant with Jedidiah that I started understanding her more and more, and once I did, I was amazed.  Her heart is so big, no wonder I couldn't fathom it.  Her understanding is deep.  That woman has wisdom, depth and capacity to accept, forgive, love, and care for others in a way that makes me proud to call her Mom.  And where there was once so much tension, there is now a peace and comfort in her presence that I find nowhere else.

Everything she does is for us.  While she was here, she twice sent care packages to Korea for my brother, even though our dad was with him.  With her aging body, she bent over backwards to cook me weeks' worth of Korean food, picking up around the house so I wouldn't have to lift a finger, and even doing our grocery shopping (all the while doing the same for my sister across the bay!).  She never came over without something for Jedidiah, whether it was a pretzel or Cars play tents.  But as much as she adores her grandsons, she even threatens them (playfully) not to make things hard for her baby--me.  With a million little gestures like this, she loves, and I finally have the eyes to see that.

The thing about mamas is you never fully appreciate your own until you become one yourself.  And now that I have, all I want to do is be my mommy's baby again.  As I hear my son call for me, "Mommy! Mommy!" in his baby voice, my heart that finally speaks the same language as hers, longs to call for her, "Mommy, Mommy."  It's hard having them halfway across the world!  I am blessed beyond words to have her at all.  I love you, Mommy!

Me and My House

It's the beginning of a new chapter! Matthais, our second son, is a week old today.  God is so good.  I was able to give birth to him through VBAC this time (vaginal birth after c-section), which was my biggest prayer with this pregnancy--not to have another c-section.  Labor was a whopping 34 1/2 hours, all in all, but most of that was contracting and waiting for me to dilate fully.  Thanks to my best friend, Epidural, it wasn't too bad and the pushing wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated (there's some hope for all you mamas-to-be!).  I had my fears and even cried when they told me it was time to start pushing, but by God's grace and strength, the support, love, and prayers of many, and my husband holding my hand the whole way through, I had a beautiful birth.  As soon as I felt him come out, I was nearly hysterical--the relief and release of all that emotion and stress--and then when I heard his first little cry, I lost it.  I burst into tears and cries of elated joy, awe, and gratitude.  It was the most amazing thing I had experienced in my life. Carlos and I were speechless, and at the same time energized from witnessing something so beautiful and awesome

In my last week of pregnancy, I was craving cheesecake, so much so that I went through the trouble of making one, only to have it ruined by using generic cream cheese!  For my first meal at the hospital after giving birth, they served spaghetti, and what else for dessert but--yes--cheesecake! :)  Even with that plastic wrapped hospital grade cake, I felt that God is so good and cares for me so personally, down to the details of my seemingly trivial life.  I felt like He was patting me on the back and saying, "Good job."  He is so amazing.

Matthias means "Gift of God" and he is just that.  When we came upon this name as we were searching for baby names, Carlos remembered asking the Lord for another child.  He specifically prayed, "God, can You bless us with another gift?"  The next thing you know, I was pregnant, and so 'Matthias' it was.

Now that I have two children, my life is drastically changed.  Jedidiah is 2 and a half, still a baby himself.  It hurts my heart at times to see the difficulties for him adjusting to having a baby brother; things like having to wait for Mommy to hold him, and not being able to take him places, our usual every day activities before Matthias came about.  But my heart also swells with pride when I see him take it with grace, understanding and accepting that things have changed; like watching and waiting while I'm breastfeeding and not trying to inflict any harm on his brother, or simply pointing and saying, "Baby! Baby!"  He is a good, sweet boy, though he has his terrible-two-year-old moments.  I love him so much and miss my buddy, but I know it's all in due time.  I can't wait to have Mommy dates with my Jedidiah down the line!

So now we are a family of four.  How blessed and rich I am.  I am ever amazed and in awe at the goodness of my God, His love to us, to me, His favor upon us...and I wonder at His plans for us.

Lord, may our family be consecrated to You.  May our lives be for Your glory, honor and praise.

"As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Amen.

Lavished with Love

Becoming a mama changes your world in every way, and I don't mean to scare you in thinking all those ways are bad =) Sure, there are sacrifices you have to make, but on the whole, I love how motherhood has increased my capacity for so many things--my capacity to love and to feel, to have compassion not only for my child but for the world at large.  I've heard it said that once you have children, every child becomes your own.  In a sense, that's true.  Now when I hear of certain situations, I ask myself, What if that were my child? And I'm able to cry and pray for them as a mother, not just an observer.  My heart feels stretched because through parenthood, God allows us to mimic His great heart.  What a privilege to know a little more of Him and how He loves. 

With that said, there's one scene in particular from the movie The Blind Side that breaks my motherly heart.  It's the scene where Leigh Anne takes Michael back to the projects to get his belongings.  He tells her to stay in the car and goes to look for his mom.  Rather than finding his mom, he finds an eviction notice on her padlocked door.  He sits down against the brick building and just cries; motherless, broken, but too proud to face anyone. 

When I see this, I'm pierced with the thought that no one should ever feel like this. 

I just watched a testimony of a young lady at our church who struggled with an eating disorder, which you can watch here: Angel's Story  Again, I was moved to tears listening to how she struggled with feeling loved, feeling beautiful.  Too many young people today don't know their worth and value, and quite frankly, it angers me.  I'm not blaming anyone for causing Angel's disorder.  In fact, I'm thankful that she had a loving and supporting team around her to overcome it.  It angers me because it's a lie of the enemy that has gripped this world to forget "what great love the Father has lavished on us--" lavished on us (1 John 3:1)!

When God's children are lost, it breaks His heart because He is a great father and He cannot see His children as anything less than beautiful, precious, cherished, of greatest wealth and valued, and so ridiculously loved. 

 How could I see him as anything less?  And how it would break my heart if he did.

Young people!  See yourself in the truth of who you are!  His beautiful beloved!

Joshua Story: Did God Forget??

For those of you who don't already know, I have a little brother who is 12 years-old.  He was born when I was a sophomore in high school, so in many ways, he was more like my baby than my brother.  I experienced so many charming nuances of a growing baby and child through my brother and adored every moment of it.  I still see him as a baby and fondly reminisce his younger days, so I've decided to periodically blog these stories for your reading pleasure, and also to remember them.

Today's story takes place when Joshua was about 4 years-old.  His (older) cousin had gotten him a trike for Christmas.  One day, he and I decided to walk/trike to the mall which is not too far from our house.  When we got to the mall, Joshua had to use the bathroom; and he had to go number two.  Well, he was too little to wipe himself or be in the stall alone, and we couldn't leave the trike outside for fear someone may steal it, so I found myself cramped against the bathroom stall door with a bulky trike between me and my pooping brother, hoping he would hurry up but not rushing him.

Another thing about Joshua is that he always thinks while he's on the toilet.  Often times I have heard him having conversations or singing happily to himself when he's doing his business, and he would shyly stop when someone came within (his) ear sight.  Not unlike those times, he was thinking about something in depth this day on the toilet at the mall when he asks me, "Jagunnoona [little big sister]? Why do girls sit down like two times? Like they sit down when they poo and when they pee!"

I very matter-of-factly replied, "Because, Joshua, girls don't have a ggochu [weewee]."


To which he could only respond with a face somewhat like this:

 

followed by the exclamation, "Everybody have a goochu!!!"

"Girls dont," I continued. "That's what makes us different."

"Oooh," he concluded.  And put the matter to rest.  Or so I thought. Five minutes later, he looks up slowly from his seat, (still pooping,) eyes widening, and asks, "Did God forget????"