To be honest I have no idea what I was doing on Mother’s Day
a year ago. Though, I am doubtful I will ever forget Mother’s Day of 2020. I
think back to what life was like a year ago and how different things are today.
Just not exactly how you might think. Yes, life is different. The state is shut
down, six feet of separation, masks and gloves in public spaces, life as a
nurse. Surely this is momentous. Even still, it won’t be what I
remember.
In January of 2019, I began communicating with a friend I had
a met a few times while in Honduras. She and her husband had traveled to the
United States border, hoping to escape the extreme
violence and to give their sons a better life. She kept me updated, when she was
able to cross the border*, when she traveled and in July when her current living
situation was no longer conducive to three small children.
Drew and I (along with another couple) met via video calls
to discuss all the options. In a short time in became clear to us that God had
a change of plans for us. Within 48 hours, my daughter, my best friend and I
were on our way to Texas, having no idea what to expect. As much anxiety as I
was feeling I couldn’t stop from wondering how the anxiety of this small family
must be so much more. They were about to travel across country with three
people they hardly knew, speaking a different language in a strange place with
strange people. Traveling to place where they have this mysterious stuff called
snow. We couldn’t be more different. Or so I thought.
We might seem like an unlikely pair. Here we sit, almost
twenty years between us, her with dark skin and dark eyes, me with light skin
and blue eyes. Her from a third world country, speaking an entirely different
language. Me, not knowing but truthfully living quite the privileged life. I never
thought once growing up, “I hope I get to go to school this year” or “I hope to
have books/pencils/paper at school” or “I hope I don’t need to leave 4th
grade to help support my family” or “I hope I have food or water or really any
of life’s basic necessities.” Yes, we may seem like an odd couple.
Ironically it wasn’t how we were different that stood out,
instead it was really how similar we were. We are both mothers. We have both
been pregnant, we have both had dreams and visions for our children. We both
want them to be good people. To love the Lord and love others as God has commanded.
We pray our kids stay healthy and if they do get sick we pray that we will have
doctors and medicine to make them better. We both want our kids to attend
school with the supplies and people to help them learn. We both pray our kids
will walk down the street safely and have food to eat. We want the same things.
We both get frustrated. We both have learned to smile when
we want to cry. We both enjoy quiet snuggles and loud belly laughs. We both
read bedtime stories and say good night prayers. We both hope we are doing a
good job. Both of us would do anything for these little people God has
entrusted us with.
I would be lying if I said everything was smooth. We have
traveled down some language barriers (so many good stories, but I am sworn to
secrecy) and navigated through different traditions but honestly there is way
more that we share than the stuff that makes us different.
I have traveled to Honduras since and I notice the same thing.
A bunch of moms who want the very best for their kids with significantly less
resources to make that happen. It doesn’t seem fair really. Why me? But in a
different way. These are strong, fierce women who will do whatever it takes to give
their kids everything they can. And it humbles me.
This journey. It has taught me. More lessons that I can express
in a post. This story unexpectedly took two women who were complete strangers,
who at first glance had nothing in common and produced two women who have become
family. I am still learning, still understanding. So glad God’s not done with
me yet. I have more lessons to learn. This Mother’s Day I am thankful for my
roommates, especially the littlest ones for opening my eyes, enlarging my heart and
making me a better person.
To all you momma’s (and those doing the tough job of a
momma) out there: Keep fighting. Stand firm. Take courage. You can do this. We
can do this, together.
Happy Mother’s Day!
* The family is here legally as they seek asylum and this is written with their permission.
