My Blog is Now Officially a Mom Blog

No, we’re not pregnant.

But my mom is posting on my blog today about her thoughts on my trip to Haiti in two weeks.

If you recall when I announced I was going, I said

“I am positive the moment my mother reads this post she will be calling me and likely ordering me to stay home.”

I said that because she cried when I went to Africa.

She cried when I went to India.

She’s my mom – and most moms aren’t thrilled when their children are put in dangerous situations.

So, without further adieu, I’d like for you to meet my mom, and hear her thoughts about me going to Haiti.

—–

Haiti.

Just thinking about all the death and destruction sends chills up my spine.

Such devastating earthquakes.

Massive graves of people.

Truck loads of bodies being dumped.

These thoughts went through my mind after all the news stories and personal accounts of what was transpiring there. It was beyond comprehension.

Then came that night.

I read all of Anne’s blogs. My day would not be complete if I didn’t check up on her. Call it…a mom’s prerogative. I try to check up on her Twitter, too, even though I don’t Twitter. I don’t blog either. No Facebook. Nothing.

But I know what my daughter’s doing.

Thanks, Internet.

I know she has a heart for people in need.

It first started with caring for animals when she was younger. Then she started doing peer counseling in the sixth grade. And in high school, she never missed a chance to serve, whether it was at our church or out with her youth group. Now, over the last few years, her trips with Compassion to Uganda and India show that she still puts feet to her words.

“Be ye doers of the Word and not hearers only.”

It didn’t really surprise me when she announced she was going to Haiti. In fact, when I told her father and her brother, they both said the same thing.

“Of course she is.”

Concerns?

Yes.

I have lots of them. I was concerned when she went to Uganda and India, too.

Prayers?

They’re always going up. It’s part of my life.

But what kind of parent would I be if I tried to limit her or place geographical boundaries on where her feet should go, and where her stories (which will shine the hope of Christ) will come from?

If I did that, I would be saying God can’t take care of her and He can’t hold her in the palm of His hand.

But…I’m still her mother.

And I will still worry about her.

But I know who holds tomorrow because I know who holds her hand, whether she’s in Nashville with friends, or Texas with me, or Haiti with the wounded, and dying, and desperate.

—

Feel free to leave comments for my mom. I know she’ll be reading them, and she’ll cherish them as well as any prayers you may have to share too. I’ll even see if she’ll be open to responding. I’m sure she will as her schedule allows.