It’s Okay To Not Celebrate Mother’s Day

It's Okay to Not Celebrate Mother's Day - Anchor Of Promise

As I left work the other day, the women in my office wished each other a weekend farewell and a Happy Mother’s Day.  I returned the gesture on my way out and as I walked to my car I had thought upon the earlier years in which I dreaded Mother’s Day.

We see it in the commercials, find it plastered in the mail, drive by and see the signs of the Happy Mother’s Day specials. Forever noting it in our memory, mother’s are greeted lovingly by their children, hugged and kissed, and given wonderful accolades to being the greatest mom in the world.

But for countless others, Mother’s Day almost seems like a curse; a curse that is filled with struggle, fear, anxiety, depression and a multitude of roller coaster emotions that are hard to deal with. Continue reading

A Real Mother

A Real Mother - Anchor Of Promise
For the mom with a teen in crisis, Mother’s Day is often a day that she wants to forget. But that is difficult to do when all she sees are the loving Mother’s Day ads on television or hears wonderful accolades from other children to their mothers.

Instead, she sits there with tears in her eyes because her son sits in the mental hospital due to a suicidal attempt or a daughter who does drugs and has run away for the third time not knowing if she is alive or dead.
It is true stories like these that hit hard to the heart of a mom who is barely able to get through each day as she worries, is hurting, and wonders if she will ever have that relationship you would see in the emotional Hallmark commercials.

Today, I want to tell you what a real mother is. Continue reading

God Blessed Me with 2 Broken Hearts

God Blessed Me with 2 Broken Hearts - Anchor Of Promise

They came from orphanages in a far off land. For one child, the back and forth motion helped stimulate her physical and emotional being as if she was rocking to the beat of a song. She cried after each 3 bottled meals a day at 9 months: One bottle of chicken broth, one bottle of tea, and lastly a bottle of bread floating in water.

There were twenty-five to thirty children per worker in a room who hardly touched them other than to change their soiled cloth diapers.  This was the most attention they received for the entire day. After laying in the diaper for hours and hours, they would be stripped and rinsed off in ice cold water and left with what looked like cigarette burns below their waist and onto their bottoms from the dirty clothes.

Her sister at 27 months old, didn’t know any language or even how to crawl or walk. Tears would flow after every meal given to her. Her fears of not knowing if she would get more food frightened her and would cause her to hoard and steal if necessary. Continue reading