The "Ricky Ricardo's "

               Remember when you were little and you would be sitting in the front seat of the car, your mother or father would slam on their brakes for one reason or another and what would happen? That hand would come out. Like some type of internal reflex that is programmed in the brain and activated by the birth of a child, the ever familiar "hand across the child's body to protect them from slamming forward" move would happen..every.single.time. As a stubborn and strong willed child, I would always say, "I'm fine Mom". Like I had to prove my ability to protect myself. Like that simple, protective hand gesture was going to strip me of all my potty trained independence.

               The other day my mother and I were leaving the Honda Center after finishing watching the final day of the Women of Faith Conference. The atmosphere in the lobby was understandably excited, and women were more concerned with sharing their inspirations with the women across the room from them, than they were walking in a relatively controlled manner. As my mother and I were walking out the door, a group of women kind of cut in front of us from the side in a super-woman-ninja-Jedi way that caused us to have to step back in the middle of steps we were taking to step forward. And what happened? The hand came out. Only this time, it was mine. My hand went behind my mother's back creating an almost bar, while simultaneously sending the message, "you bump into my mom, you get the bar."  I caught what I was doing and thought almost instantly to myself, "Whoa- when did THAT happen?" At what point in our lives do we become the hand protector and not the hand protectee?

               Now, truthfully, I was always a rather worried child. I remember there were many times I would question my mother about my parents finances because I was concerned they were struggling, or I would stay up all night wondering what disciplinary action they'd be taking against my sister for getting in trouble about something I probably made her do; but my mother would never let me in on business that wasn't mine, and so I remained " the worrier". But this, this hand protector move, this is different! This is a genetically coded behavior that only mothers and fathers have! When do we become the one's protecting the ones who protected us?

               I am not a mother, but I am not a child. I no longer need to be parented, however I am not a parent. Although I pretend to have it all figured out, I still want my mother's input on everything I do. Of course I will then argue with her about why her input is wrong, but that's what I do, I argue with my mom.  I have been arguing with my mom for as long as I have been worrying about her. I suffer from what I, as a therapist, have diagnosed myself with, called the, " I have to learn everything the hard way syndrome." Basically the symptoms of this disease is doing things you were advised not to do, suffering the consequences, and hoping your parents won't say, "I told you so". I will listen to Jesus, and I will listen to my mother, eventually, when I am done arguing with her. Genesis 2:24 says, " For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh." This has always been one of those verses I struggle with. Do not kill? Got it. Do not steal? Not a problem, I'm too tall to get away with it anyways, but leave my mother and father??? For a man??? I think of the story of Ruth. In biblical days, when a woman was married to a man and he died, she was indebted to his family still. Ruth's parents were well off, but when her husband died she chose to stay with her mother-in-law Naomi, who had lost her husband and both her sons. Ruth followed Naomi home to Naomi's hometown, and stayed there with her despite being treated badly by the townspeople. Ruth found a cave for her and Naomi to stay in, and found a field to work in to at least provide the two women with food. I get the loyalty thing, and I love this story because of Ruth's faithfulness to her mother-in-law, but the thing is, my love for the story comes from my connection with Ruth... in that I would so the same thing for my mother. My mother. I don't know that I could leave my mother to follow a mother-in-law, no matter how dear to my heart she is.

               When I study the word and go to prayer with my reflections, I have this term I use.. the "Ricky Ricardo's". Basically it's anything in the word that I come upon that causes me to go, "uhhhh.. I don't know so much about this God", it's those issues that I pray about the most. I call them the Ricky Ricardo's because I know they're my weaknesses, and when I go before my Lord on Judgment Day He will be saying to me, "Megan, you got some splainin' to do". Genesis 2:24 is like, the king, of all Ricky Ricardo's.  This woman gave birth to me, she held me, she held my hair back when I threw up, she dried my tears, she smacked me in the mouth when I needed it, she fought tooth and nail to make me a lady, not a woman, a lady. My mother made my lunch and put notes in there for me, she stopped at Rite Aid on the way home from work to pick up whatever last minute item I needed, she taught me to put make-up on, and how to sew, and how to make beds properly, and how to type, and when to use their, they're, or there. She made sure I had clothes, and food, and shampoo, and animal crackers. She buried my dead pets, she took my cat to the vet and spent money she didn't have as a single mom to get it sewn back together after a car hit it, only to have it turn around and die from cancer, like, the next day. She has listened to thousands upon thousands of my dramas and let me cry. She sees the best in me, even when I don't. She has been to every dance recital, cheer competition, football game, basketball game, and award ceremony. She took the time off work to come see me hold a sign that said CURTAIN on it in my second grade play! She is my hero, my friend, my gym buddy, my advisor, my accountability partner, my confidant. She gave me my sister who is the joy of my world. She is fair, she is loving, she is annoying most of the time, she is always right. She prays for me harder then I could pray for myself. She loves me with such an unconditional love that has always made the unconditional love, the true- un-human unconditional love, Jesus has for me seem so overwhelming. She points out my flaws, then we laugh because they're the same as hers. Our arm has the same freckle pattern on it, we stand the same way, we talk the same, we cry the same.

And I am supposed to leave her?

I will follow my God with all my heart because that is what I chose to do. BUT, when it comes to my mother, and the thought of leaving her, I will DEFINITELY have some splainin to do.

My hand will go out a million more times. Not in the "hand across the child's body to protect them from slamming forward", but in the "on my knees in gratitude with my hand lifted in the air" move. Thank you Lord. Thank you for a mother that is so unbelievable that I am even faced with the dilemma of having to make someone a priority over her one day. Thank you for loving me and my sister enough to give her to us, and thank you for a dad that loves her as much as we do. Amen.