Category: Parenting & family

How Can I Help My Mom?

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A heartbreaking question

From a precious child

Who is carrying burdens too heavy to hold…

“Dad says Mom’s schizophrenic?”

(What does that mean)? 

She says she hears voices….

(She said she blames me).

If she didn’t have kids

She’d be happy and free

But since she has us

She’s got misery….”

I did what I could

To help her understand….

These are GROWN UP PROBLEMS

Meant for Mom and Dad’s hands.

We talked about people who have other things wrong

And take medication to keep going strong….

Said doctors can help if mom and dad try

To get get help for the problem and not just hide.

You didn’t cause it

And you can’t fix it….

You’re not gonna catch it.

Just keep being YOU!

How can I help her

So she’ll understand?

IT’S NOT HER FAULT!

(God, hold them all in Your hands!)

June 2024

Darkness, Darkness

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Darkness, darkness, land of shadows
Oh my heart is full of you
Grace and mercy, God’s compassion
Is hidden from my narrow view.
I have failed again, again I’ve failed you
Failed myself and those I love.
Why keep trying? I keep on failing.
Why even ask what I should do?

Your loving kindness hidden by my blindness
I’m insensitive and dull of heart
Will I never learn to hear You,
God of Light who darkness cannot hide….
Failures again, failures before
No easy solutions – I hear judgement roar.
Though your heart does not condemn me,
Guilt and shame and unbelief pierce me through
This wounded warrior falls to her knees before you.

But though the shadows in the valley
Are so dark I can’t see
I know in faith, with His rod and staff
My Shepherd comes to comfort me.
With lovingkindness He reaches down
And lifts this lost sheep from the ground
The One who holds me in HIs arms
Can save the ones I love from harm.

(Written 7/15/2021…it’s hard to watch your children struggle, whether they are little kids, teens or grownups. I will always wish I had done more, done it better, done it sooner…seems like parenting sets you up to always have to cry out to God….)

How can i describe what it’s like to be loved so well it takes your breath away?

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Forty-five years ago, a manly looking fisherman with sunburned nose, blond streaked hair, kind eyes that twinkled said hello to this rather shy woman sitting in the grass writing poetry….

Over the next few months, he chose a life of faith and I found out how how his face could hold such soft delight as he held his best friend’s little newborn son….that’s when I fell in love.

He had kind eyes-kindness is such a gift…I met his mentor (an older weathered fisherman) who was also there when he was baptized…

I didn’t know men could strong and kind until I met him.  I prayed…I waited to see if our paths would converge…

Six months later,  we got married.   Now after 45 years, 3 kids and 4 grandkids…(and two young women who adopted us as grandparents) I am grateful beyond measure.

We are going through our second journey of me having aggressive cancer.  This is hard, but we are going through it together. He doesn’t quit even when the storm is intense.  He is amazing .  

He is everything I hoped he would be and so much more than he can even understand (sometimes he is too humble). All I ever wanted in my life is exactly what I have-it’s not about stuff!!!! It’s about loving God,  Rich, 🐶, and the rest of my people.

This woman is grateful. 

(When I was in hospital for Thanksgiving and emergency surgery last week, one of the young nurses said, “I love the way he looks at you,” after my husband left.  I told her we’d been married 45 years and she asked how that was possible.  The only answer I had, was to look for someone kind )

Psalm 61 for 7-year-olds

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A Morning Psalm

Last night I dreamed about Psalm 61 as I prayed for a very special little person I know who is having a struggle with school in a Zoom-filled virtual school day. 

This morning I am reading the first few verses from “the Passion Translation”:

O God, hear my prayer. Listen to my heart’s cry.
2 For no matter where I am, even when I’m far from home,
I will cry out to you for a father’s help.
When I’m feeble and overwhelmed by life,
guide me into your glory, where I am safe and sheltered.
3 Lord, you are a paradise of protection to me.
You lift me high above the fray.
None of my foes can touch me
when I’m held firmly in your wrap-around presence!
4 Keep me in this glory.
Let me live continually under your splendor-shadow,
hiding my life in you forever.

Psalm 61 for a seven-year-old:

God, I am overwhelmed!

I need your help!

This is hard.

Everyone else gets done quicker.

I don’t want them to laugh

I need your help.

This is hard.

I need your help.

Let me know I am loved.

I need your help.

This is hard.

Lead me to the safe place

Let me know I am OK.

An “Imperfect” Child

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I was born imperfect
(Not just the obvious imperfections of sin nature, self-will and human depravity)
But in an actual tangible, provable kind of imperfect way—
The kind of imperfection that you had to pay to have fixed.
This was unacceptable…. only a perfect child would prove their place in the world….
They both badly needed something to be proud of.
Instead, they got me.

(Battles over whose genes did it—
Who could take the blame,
Or why this happened were pointless….)
Back to the hospital I went…
Something as simple as being born
Could get complicated in their world—
(One brimming with anxiety and depression
Guilt, shame and fear).

But God’s saw things differently (as always):
He formed my innermost being, shaping my delicate insides and my intricate outside,
and wove them all together in my mother’s womb.
He even formed every bone in my body when he created me in the secret place
carefully, skillfully shaping me] from nothing into something.
This is just too wonderful, deep, and incomprehensible!
His understanding of me brings me wonder and strength
I thank you, God, for making me so mysteriously complex!
Everything you did is marvelously breathtaking…
It simply amazes me to think about!
You saw who you created me to be before I became me!]

“From my mother’s womb, you have chosen me,
Love has called my name. I’ve been born again into your family
Your blood flows through my veins”.

I am perfectly imperfect. I am loved. I am blessed. I am His.

(excerpts paraphrased from Psalms 139-The Passion Translation
and No Longer A Slave by Zach Williams)

Teresa Norman – Summer 2020

Ruth’s Song (Poem)

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(Grateful and proud of the adult, woman, mom my daughter Ruth has become! Tomorrow is her birthday)

Like Hannah in the Bible promised long ago
If she could only have a child, she’d give him to the Lord,
I prayed that God would give to us a baby girl to love
And promised we would care for her and teacher her about His love…

So God, in love, looked down on us and brought you to our lives.
I’ve thanked Him ever day since then and I’ll thank him all my life.
I pray that you will know Him too as your Savior and your friend,
Because, little Ruth, Jesus loves you with a love that has no end.

Lord, I give to you this child that you have given me —
Please help me mold and shape her into what she’s meant to be.
Keep her safe throughout each day-keep her in your tender care.
No matter what may happen, let her know you’re always there!

Teresa Norman May 1986

Hand Lotion in the Afternoon

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(My mother has been gone for three years now, but as mother’s day approaches tomorrow, I am reflecting on her strength at living her whole life with mental health challenges in a society and a time where those were often neither talked about nor treated effectively. One of the times she was hospitalized, a nurse explained to me that there was nothing we could have done that would have made it easier. She said it was a biochemical malfunction and she cycled between episodes too quickly and unpredictably for medication to have been effective. I will always be grateful to that nurse.)

Tired hands
Dry from weeks in a hospital
In a coma
Heavily medicated
Restrained…
Life and death fight for preeminence
Life wins
Her eyes open
As I am rubbing lotion on those hands….
Instead of words of assault, criticism or disgust
She speaks coherent words
Words of appreciation:
“for angels like me….”
She’s back, and she is aware
Wondering what happened
Wondering where she was for “all those years”
(in a coma six weeks but “gone” so long before that)…
A new stage in her life begins
One where, for brief periods
She does not fight the universe and all that’s in it
Brief periods where we talk
Only God knows why, for her
Normal was never an option
Grateful she came back
No matter how short the time.

Teresa Norman Nov 2019

Mary In a Martha World

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The baby cries, her mother runs—
There’s just so much to do!
You know I wouldn’t make it
Through the day, Lord,
If I didn’t have you!

The kids are in the bathroom—
Oh, I wonder…what’s that sound?
It couldn’t be! They haven’t!
Every time I turn around!

The dishes would try to take over
If they were left to themselves too long.
It seems like another stack’s waiting
Just as soon as the first one’s done.

The laundry pile keeps getting higher,
It seems like it never will stop.
I think I remember that somewhere
Adults sometimes sit and talk?

But as I pick up my crying daughter
And hold her close to my heart,
I feel Your love and Your smile of approval
For I’ve chosen the better part.

Teresa Norman 1983

Pajama Feet

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It’s 3 a.m., here she comes again –
That little sleepy head is sneaking in my bed.
“I want you, Mom.” That was all she said
As she snuggled up as close as she could get to me.

“Rock me, hold me, cozy me, ” her favorite words…
Her thumb pulled out just long enough to say,
I need to know you love me – that I’m special to.
She says it in her very special way…

Little one, the day is going to come
When times like this are but a distant memory
So for tonight, I’ll hold you close to me
So thankful that you’re here and everything’s alright.

Lullaby for My Unborn Child (Poem)

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Written for my unborn child….1/25/1984

My child, God loves you as a father
You are the clay-He is the potter. (Is 64:8)
You are the work of His hands–
Let Him shape you as He has planned. (Jer 18:3-6)

He knew you even before He formed you. (Ps 139:13-14)
Before you were created, He called you.
He set you apart,
He had it planned from the start.
It is for His pleasure that you were formed. (Rev 4:12)

He even numbered the hairs on your head. (Matt. 10:30)
All your days are written down in His book. (Ps. 139:16)
His angels have charge o’er you (Ps 91:11)
To keep you each day.
Surely He who sees the tiny sparrow fall (Mt 10:29)
Will help you find your way. (Ps 37:23-24)

(This was written while I was pregnant with my son, and I’ve prayed it over his life for years now. But recently, God reminded me this is how He feels about each of us every day, even when we don’t feel too lovable or valuable or successful or….fill in the blank with your favorite self-accusation. Grateful for His love.)

Like Water for the Thirsty (Poem)

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Lord, you know there’s times I’ve tried to run
But now I come to give You thanks for all You’ve done.
I don’t know why it is I couldn’t see before
That the hands that were reaching out to me were Yours.

I guess that sometimes pride gets in the way—
We turn aside to try to hide the pain.
So much is lost I know You gave Your life to gain,
So now I come to give thanks in Your name.

Now when my little girls ask how to see You,
How can they really know that You’re around.
You’ve given me an answer I can share with them—
They can see You in Your people—
That’s where You’re found.

Thank You, Lord, for all You’ve done.
You gave me friends that brought me hope again.
Their kindness and their mercy
Were like water to the thirsty.
I’ve seen You in my friends
And I thank You, Lord.

Teresa Norman 1988

A Tribute to My Dad (poem)

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The times we live in, and some opportunities I’ve availed myself of lately, have given me a chance to reflect on the legacy my ancestors have left me…my dad passed away at the age of 90 on April 5, 2016.

What I Learned from My Dad (one way or the other)

You taught me to solve problems and value my independence.

You taught me self-esteem is earned by living a life I can be proud of.

You took me to church where I learned God is good, some people suck, and even when they do, God is still good.

You let me make music that gave my heart wings.

You made me responsible to know my options in any situation and always have a Plan B.

You taught me to be grateful and that whining will never solve anything.

You taught me that, in the end, kindness matters (a lot!) and, by God’s grace, I get to choose what kind of person I want to be.

Thanks, Dad.

Not for sale (poem)

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Money doesn’t make you a better person-it just gives you better choices.  In some cultures, having no money and no rights makes you a target for traffickers. I first heard of the organization “Not For Sale” shortly after I had met some of my young refugee friends. It made their presentation pretty non-theoretical. I could picture some of the young people I care about and the choices they may have faced if their parents had not chosen to become refugees and take the risk of resettlement to America.

Not for sale…..
Humans as commodities, stocks to exchange,
inconveniences, expendables to be thrown away.
Their lives for sale…choices determined by $.
No! Their lives are a gift. Their lives have value!
Children of God, created with purpose-
whether they know it or not!

They have captured us, adopted us, let us love them.
Priceless treasures beyond measure…
These sharers of laughter, of humbling moments…
Yahtzee played, meals shared, loving acceptance offered and received.
We talk of woman things and what it means
Of relationships and guys who are good
And those who are not.

Transitions negotiated like minefields….
New experiences played out each day….
We talk of Christmas trees and manger scenes–
Of Jesus, a refugee whose parents fled to safety to keep him safe.

They watched our daughter with her baby
And reflected on a mother who loves instead of leaves…
They have little “stuff”- but their father loves them.
With courage he brought them here in spite of the challenges.
They live in a “big” house (smaller than most living rooms),
grateful their father cooks for them….
Grateful for food. For friends…. for choices.
If different choices had been made,
They could be some of those who are for sale in another land…..

How do you determine the value of a human?
Of their love?
It is priceless.
It should not be for sale.

What I Know (ramblings)

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While my currently reconfigured life seems to require a crash course education in dealing with dementia after dark with grace, faith, and gentleness, it’s not something I was ever really prepared for.  In stressed out times, I usually revert to some basics learned a long time ago….

1.  A lot of theology, people have argued about for centuries.  Do I care?  No.  There is enough of the simple things I do understand to keep me busy the rest of my life figuring out how to one day at a time love God, my family, my parents, my coworkers, and my friends/enemies/peripheral encounters.  Keep it simple. 

2.  While some people may be inspired by the beauty God created in rocks, mountains, trees, sunsets (and I love those things too), or the magnificent oratory in a good sermon, the applied grace of God that gets through my anxiety/depression/exhaustion/attitudes/questioning usually comes in a song.  Songs change me.  My soul meditates on them and it washes my brain.  I can remember scripture portrayed in a song better than 95% of a lifetime of sermons I’ve heard.  The song that has sustained me this week is on “Year of Grace” by Robin Mark, written by Johnny Parks and Claire Hamilton (check out the album…..every song on it is fantastic!!!!

“All Is Well…..He lowers us to raise us so we can sing His priases.  Whatever is His way all is well.  He makes us rich and poor that we might trust Him More.  Whatever is His way all is well.  All my changes come from Him-He who never changes.  I’m held firm in the grasp of the Rock of ages.  All is well with my soul.  He is God in control.  I know not all His plans, but I know I’m in His hands.  He clothes us now then strips us, yet with His Word equips us.  Whatever is His way all is well.  And though our seasons change, we will exalt His name.  Whatever is His way, all is well. ”

A wise friend once said, “What you magnify gets bigger-let’s magnify Jesus.”

That’s the goal.  That’s the perspective.  That’s the anchor.  Nothing else is gonna make it happen.

The Things You Learn By Listening (ramblings)

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Well, it’s been almost two months since we started a new stage of life (one that includes having my 85 year old father living with us)….I am incredibly grateful to have married a man with a large enough heart and enough personal integrity to love those who need it.  He is my example.

It’s been a rollercoaster ride (including an ER visit, a visit to a small country church a lot like Dad’s old church,a couple of holidays with four generations present, lots of paperwork, some bad news, and a little good news-God bless the social worker who did what she said she would!).

Dad’s a good story teller.  If you ask the right question (and are prepared to sit and listen for a while after breakfast), you can hear “the rest of the story….” the stuff that makes parts of family history make sense.  I never knew one uncle was a medic in World War II (giving shots of morphine to guys who were dying and picking up the remains of those it was too late for). Makes him make a lot more sense now…. I knew Grandma had lived with us for a while, but I didn’t remember being a little girl sneaking out of my toddler bed and going to snuggle with her in the middle of the night in the little room off the living room.  I just knew she was always a nice, kind, loving person even to people who were sometimes pretty awful.

In the days when Dad was young, the options were different for family members who had mental illnesses (or angered the wrong person and were sent away).  Counselling, medication, understanding, love and acceptance don’t seem like they were readily available in that cultural/chronological/familial/theological context.  That sucks!  I proudly wear the wedding ring of the black sheep of the family….never knew she was actually one of the “Rosie the Riveter” ladies….the stories I had heard about her before were of the “other” kind.

Sounds like Dad’s dad was a good farmer.  Hard working, God-fearing, German immigrant…wished he had settled on the other side of the mountains where there were mile after mile of prospering farms instead of 10 acres of rocks on Whidbey Island.

I have a lot to learn about loving, listening, caring….appears a lot of opportunities have landed in my newly configured life.  I pray, with God’s help, that I get it right.