A Mother's Journey
A Mother’s Journey
by: Carley Ellis
We hear the sentiment “follow your dreams” all the time as mothers and there is a part of me that really loves it but I wonder if we also need to ask, what about sacrifice? What about the humbling practice of choosing to wait for the flourishing and benefit of another? How do we know when we are doing all of the sacrificing and none of the dreaming? How do we hold these seemingly opposing pursuits in our hands and make sense of them?
Maybe our dreams are less like moving trains that we need to quickly jump onto before we miss them and more like seeds that we plant deep in the earth. Ones that are watered by the mothering instead of starved because of it. And in the right soil and environment, they will grow. In time, they will flourish into something beautiful and maybe even unexpected.
More than I want to follow my dreams, I want to follow Jesus.
Following him is where I find all of those desires and passions that are buried deep inside. And sometimes it looks like taking steps toward them and other times it looks like waiting. Following Jesus means it’s not always about me. It also means that sometimes it is. There is no formula, but there is freedom. Freedom to pursue and sacrifice. Freedom to get it wrong and try again. It’s keeping our hands open and our hearts ready.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Because maybe it’s bigger than us. Maybe there is a larger, collective dream at play. One that whispers “the last will be first and the first will be last.” One that blesses the unseen sacrifice. One that wants us all to make it.
Follow Jesus, my friend. Pursue intimacy with the one who created you. Wildly follow His Spirit. Sometimes that will lead you on the craziest of adventures. Other times it might look like comforting a sick baby or forgiving yourself for losing your patience again. It is all grace. Keep planting and trusting.
Tune your ear to his voice.
You don’t need to jockey or strive or throw an elbow to get your share.
You are seen and loved and right on time.
Carley Ellis is a wife, mother of five & creator of The Frances Project, an online space where she shares her own journey of freedom as a woman and a follower of Jesus. You can usually find her cozied up at home with her people, cooking or reading a good book or at the baseball diamond cheering on her boys.
@thefrancesproject
A Mother’s Journey
by: Charlene Giesbrecht
I glanced upward to notice the vivid lights as my stretcher was rushed into the operating room. At the time I mumbled, “The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures.” I laid helpless. This was not the entrance into motherhood I had envisioned after months of preparation. I had already lost one baby by miscarriage, and I was not ready to lose another.
I heard a healthy and vibrant scream. The specialist exclaimed, “It’s a boy!” The tears came rolling off my cheeks as my miracle baby had finally arrived. A sense of relief filled my mind, yet suddenly I was gasping for air and I stuttered, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t breathe.” The panic gripped me, and I visualized the Lord leading me to quiet waters. I pleaded that He would refresh my soul to see my son. My body began losing litre after litre of blood without a medical explanation.
After losing over four litres of blood, my husband permitted the medical team to save my life by trying an uncommon procedure. I could feel the tension in the operating room, and I fixated on the phrase that the Lord would guide the specialists and nurses. There was a wave of internal anger that overwhelmed me and I knew I had to fight if I wanted to meet my child. I was walking through the darkest valley and tears filled my eyes because I was terrified that I would not make it. My body was fatigued beyond measure and I meditated, “For you are with me…your rod and your staff… they comfort me.”
On this side of heaven, I am convinced we will encounter circumstances in life that do not make sense.
Those were the exact words the specialists stated, “Medically everything went wrong. We cannot understand it. It’s a complete miracle you are alive.” I gently inquired for clarification, “Did you both clap at the end?” They reassured me that they did not due to maintaining the sterile field. I responded, “I heard an auditory clap. If you say it’s a miracle that I am alive then I will choose to believe that the clapping sound was angels rejoicing over me.” The tears emerged in everyone and together we acknowledge the unfathomable miracle of both mother and infant.
I have learned that sometimes we cannot explain moments in life, those fragile and tender aspects that we cannot precisely label or place specific answers to.
My table was ready for me as I was bound for heaven that day. Somehow, the Lord saw fit to anoint my head with oil and ask that I embrace the important role of motherhood here on earth. In my lengthy recovery, I purposefully sought out the opportunity to live out the reality that God’s love and goodness was overflowing even in my weeks and months of pain. As I daily held my son, I knew that a miraculous moment occurred in that operating room and I would dwell in the place of giving my Heavenly Father the glory.
In anticipation of Mother’s Day, I acknowledge that regardless of our association with the day… we each stand in need of our Good Shepherd who is our Saviour. His character is trustworthy and He will guide us into places of healing as His staff grants comfort in the process.
This is a story that is not complete, rather an unfolding tale that invites the Miracle Worker to continue His good work in each of our lives.
A psalm of David.
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right path for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
A diverse nursing career couldn’t sustain the internal ache Charlene had to speak into the vulnerable parts of men and women alike. At a young age, she knew God designed her to be a brave communicator, a specific skill of intentional dialogue, yet it took a serious car accident to align her steps forward. In her healing journey, she graduated with a Master of Arts in Leadership and Management from Briercrest. Her engaging stories fosters creative opportunities to speak in various settings, such as high schools, camps, conferences and retreats. She continues to pursue a speaking career while facilitating dialogue that celebrates the layers of individual and collaborative stories.