The Middle

I found beauty in the middle.

My life is situated in the middle of two extraordinary women. My mother, who embodies a resoluteness of character that is admired by all who know her, and my daughter, who is a wise-beyond-her-years sort of woman and a constant pleasure to have in your life. Several years ago, we labeled ourselves “The 3 Gens”… three generations of women bonded together by love and creativity.

Until recently I hadn’t appreciated what a precious place I held within that triad. “The 3 Gens” was fun to mention in conversation, and although I always considered our bond special, it never occurred to me that this is a joy that many never experience.

The Middle can be beautiful.

If I need to gain perspective on a situation that is new to me, my mom is just a phone call away and always willing to share her experiences. I value her advice and am a better woman for following it. She fills my spirit with her wisdom.

I am a vessel and I am full.

On the flip side, when my daughter calls for help navigating uncharted territory in her life, I share my experience with her in a similar fashion. I can let my fullness spill out freely and it is not only my words I share, but YES! she benefits from the wisdom of a generation before me! Just let that sink in….its like a beautiful series of waterfalls that overflow into one another, refreshing and lovely. I get to be the channel between generations!

The Middle can be brutal.

When I got the call that my mother was headed to the hospital for open heart surgery, the middle was tough. I was dealing with a rush of emotions while faced with the task of relaying this news to my daughter who was living far from home. I was asking questions that had no answers, while answering questions that had no answers. The fear. The uncertainty. The helplessness. I felt these intensely and my mother wasn’t on the other end of the phone to help me through.

The doctors met with us post-op. There were issues. I recall so vividly as they explained that they would be keeping her heavily sedated. They had done all they could in a tough situation.

Now it is up to her. The surgeon said.

The channel was blocked. No water flowed. The chain seemed broken.

My supply of strength was draining faster than it could be replenished. I was LOST in the middle. When I felt that the last drop would disappear, I was surprised by what I found.

Beneath the spring of my mother’s wisdom was a strong solid foundation of bedrock.

The Rock of Ages.

Of course! My mother’s strength had a source, and that source wasn’t dependent upon good days or bad days. It didn’t shift or sink when hardship comes. It stands everlasting and unchanging, because He is Everlasting and unchanging.

I stepped onto that Rock.

I let myself fall heavily & freely onto that foundation trusting that no matter how hard my landing, it would hold steady.

And I prayed in the middle.

My next call to my daughter was less burdened. The words weren’t as strained, the unanswered questions seemed less daunting and we held onto the bond of the “3 Gens” (and it’s Bedrock strength) while my mother fought hard for her life.

Everyone prayed.

After her recovery, my mom shared a story about her time under anesthesia. She was stuck on one side of a wall….the death side. The other side of the wall was life. She knew she needed to cross over that wall, but she was too weak. My mother remembers crying out to the Lord and vividly telling Him that she didn’t have the strength to make it to the other side.

She simply said “I need You to do it”

….and do you know what? He did! The Lord launched her over that impossible wall and brought her back to us! Each time we stepped into her hospital room, there was less and less equipment at her bedside. She was more and more responsive.

When she relayed her experience to us, I couldn’t help but wonder. Were these two instances happening simultaneously?

Was she laying in that bed, facing that impossible wall and crying out to the Lord at the very time I was falling on the Rock of faith in prayer? When the physical bond between generations was disjointed, were we bridged together spiritually?

What an amazing thought to ponder.

What a beautiful narrative to pass on to my daughter.

From my mother, through me, down to her.

My mom made a full recovery.

That waterfall of wisdom flows between generations once again!

Lucky me….I am in the middle!