Why Every Moment Counts

For as far back as I can remember, the communication between my mom and I was difficult. There are a lot of reasons for that beyond the typical mother-daughter tensions. Responsibility lay on both sides. She struggled with her own unresolved hurts. And parts of me, even as an adult, were immature. I struggled to connect, forgive, and love my mom well. So I just pressed forward, moving away from home as fast as possible (they moved away from me actually, but that is another story) and staying in touch in a minimal way. When we did talk things were very surface or extremely stressful, never in between.

Having my own daughter 20 years later created awareness and recognition of how hard it is to be a mother. This and the feeling of being unmoored prompted me to have compassion for my mom and try to forgive specific hurts that I still held. Countless times, I verbalized my forgiveness to a friend or offered forgiveness through prayer with a counselor. Yet irregular conversations with my mom had the same tensions - each of us pushing the others buttons. Occasionally, we would make progress. Two steps forward and three steps back, doing a dysfunctional mother-daughter dance.

Even though I had prayed and forgiven her, I still found ways to be angry, critical, and distant.

Until one July afternoon when a harmless trip to the pool turned tragic.

We were traveling home after swimming, when the golf cart we were in careened off the road, traveled down an embankment, and flipped over onto its side.  The shock to my body and mind was immediate. I saw my daughter with her leg trapped underneath the golf cart crying and calling to me. I heard my mom moaning in pain with injuries I could see and many other injuries yet to be revealed. In an instant, I had to choose who to go to and help first.  In an unconscious choice, I lifted the cart to release my daughter and pleaded with her to move away from the wreckage. I had to leave her crying and alone. Only seconds had transpired. I went to my mom to try to alleviate her pain and cries.  Thankfully, people (including an off duty paramedic who had been driving by) were on the scene to help my mom who needed medical attention . 

Today, I can no less give you a play-by-play of every detail of the next hours than perform brain surgery. My memory is in fragments. But one thing that is as clear to me now and it was that day. The moment I heard my mom’s cries I was flooded by sensations I can only attribute to divine covering. In an instant, I surrendered all judgment, criticism, unforgiveness, and hatred. It was all gone.

All that remained in me was unconditional love for my mom.

Offer Forgiveness

Some people learn lessons easily.  Apparently, I am not one of them. I am stubborn. For me to offer complete forgiveness took that July afternoon and the deep awareness that there are no guarantees. Thankfully there would be no room for unforgiveness in my life. I would make a decision, a choice, to focus on the moments and to be content, to show my mom that I love her without conditions.

The standard definition of “forgive” is to stop feeling angry or resentful toward someone for an offense, flaw, or mistake. The biblical definition of forgiveness is to let go of sin. It is an act of obedience and gratefulness to God because of the sacrifice God made through his son Jesus, who died to restore the relationship between God and man.

Even the word forgiveness brings up a lot of emotions for most people. It seems impossible when you’ve been hurt by someone to let them off “the hook”. Really, forgiveness is taking yourself off the hook. In no way is forgiveness condoning evil or foolish actions. To truly forgive is to release the hold the other person has on your emotions and life. To recognize that the person can no longer hurt you. To let the pain go instead of continuing to suffer. 

You know my story - the decades of trying to forgive and the instantaneous forgiveness. What about you? You can forgive in a moment. Or you can take longer, like decades. You can take the steps to forgive another person for the pain that they have caused you. You can make that decision.  You can verbalize it.  You can pray about it and oftentimes that’s enough. You can do that with a decision because you are tired of suffering. Or you can forgive because your faith models forgiveness.  Humility shows you your own propensity to hurt people, making you more understanding of the hurt you have experienced.  Forgiveness isn’t easy, but it is possible. 

You can forgive on faith. You can forgive without having a relationship with a person that you’re forgiving. Have the boundaries needed to maintain safety and release yourself from the consequences of unforgiveness. I don’t know who you need to forgive. But I hope that in reading my story you can move forward offering forgiveness.

Pursue Relationship

Childhood wounds healed instantly that July afternoon. Bodies took much longer. It seemed as if our broken bodies (especially mom’s) were the exchange for relational healing.

After the accident, hours passed and in time we learned the extent of my mom’s injuries. She had her first surgery that night to repair a deep and long laceration on her head requiring more than 60 stitches. Then she had two more surgeries the first week - for a broken clavicle and six breaks on her spine. Days, weeks, and months passed as my mom’s physical body healed. Throughout the time, her spirits and her attitude were phenomenal. We had great conversations as Sophia, my Dad, and I cared for her alongside an incredible medical team. The accident had happened on the first day of a planned two week trip so we had many hours together at the hospital. While my mom’s body took months, the cuts and bruises to my daughter’s and my physical bodies took only weeks. We experienced some trauma from the accident that lingers. Being present with her and seeing her improvements and set backs day by day was healing for some of that trauma.

Yes, I had completely forgiven my mom, but we had to start over from scratch. We had to create a new relationship as mother and daughter. That relationship and the foundation of it would be different. I was now an adult and a person of faith. Instead of the old patterns of a powerful mother and wounded daughter, we now were two adult women who acknowledged we had made mistakes and wanted to go forward rather than look back. So we had that conversation and talked about what it could look like going forward. We agreed to not look backwards. We agreed to initiate more conversations and to reach out to one another. I remember distinctly the first time we hugged one another. My body was now able to receive my mother's love. She held on for a long time. And we both cried. In our new relationship we often hug each other and the walls that used to be there are no more.

A few months later I returned to spend time with her and to foster our new relationship - one with compassion and grace.

Listen to Story

As an adult I could learn about my mom now that my own pain was out of the way. I could ask her questions and hear her story. And I wanted to. My curiosity in her as a person more than her role as my mother was renewed. I asked her questions. I listen to her stories. I was interested in her life, her past life, before me. I was curious about her thoughts and memories as a woman first and as my mother second. I was also interested in her current life. I wasn’t looking for her flaws and evidence that she didn’t love me. The more I learned about her, the more I understood about her life and my own. I could look back and see how my immaturity and unforgiveness got in the way and put a shadow on our interactions. I grieved the time lost and looked forward to the future. I still do.

Learning someone’s story enables you to see them as human. It helps you to better understand the decisions that they’ve made. You can be curious. You can ask questions. You can listen.

When you don’t truly know a person it is easy to judge their choices and actions.  You only see your own story and their actions toward you become your story. Instead you can assume that they are making decisions based on their history, their dreams, and their experiences. Probably you aren’t a significant factor in those decisions. That is hard to handle when you are a hurt child and viewing life through a selfish lens.

Instead take a walk down memory lane with your people. Have real conversations. That’s what my mom and I do now. It makes all the difference in our relationship and helps me to continue to honor the choice I made to forgive.

Make Every Moment Count

Life is short. It can end in an instant. 

That awareness struck me that July day in a new way.  It struck my physical body, my heart, my mind, all of me. I know that for whatever amount of time I have left I want to be in a good relationship with not only my mom, but all the people who are important to me. The people that you love cannot be taken for granted. You never know how much time you have with them. 

I don’t know where you’re at. I don’t know what relational pain you’ve endured. Forgiveness is what I needed. Your lesson may be the same or it may be something else. Either way, every moment counts. So pray and do the work to make every moment count - now - before it’s too late. Surrender the emotional pain attached to the past, pursue relationships, and listen to other’s stories.  That is a sure fire way to grow relationally and to make every moment count.