Research shows that women, on average, talk about three times as much as men. The average woman notches up about 20,000 words in a day, which is about 13,000 more than the average man. Women also generally speak more quickly and devote more brainpower to speaking. So far, research has been unable to explain exactly why, though some evidence points to a genetic cause. [1] After 60 years of my own observation, I think I have a plausible explanation: motherhood.
Mothers typically spend more time with their children than fathers, and thus say much more to them. With that in mind, here is some Mother’s Day humor, speculating on what some mothers might have said to their famous young sons:
Columbus’ mother: “I don’t care what you’ve discovered, you still could have written!”
Michelangelo’s mother: “Can’t you paint on walls like other children? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get that stuff off the ceiling?”
Abraham Lincoln’s mother: “Again with the stovepipe hat? Can’t you just wear a baseball cap like the other kids?”
Albert Einstein’s mother: “Can’t you do something about your hair? Oil, styling gel, mousse, anything …?”
George Washington’s mother: “The next time I catch you throwing money across the Potomac, you can kiss your allowance goodbye!”
Thomas Edison’s mother: “Of course I’m proud that you invented the electric light bulb. Now turn it off and get to bed!”
Used with permission FreeStockImages.com
That’s all in fun, of course, but there is no doubt that mothers have had a tremendous impact on history, as noted by American poet William Ross Wallace (1819-1881) in “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle.” Here is the third verse:
Woman, how divine your mission, Here upon our natal sod; Keep—oh, keep the young heart open Always to the breath of God! All true trophies of the ages Are from mother-love impearled, For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world.
Indeed, mothers have a vital calling—a divine mission. It is therefore fitting that we honor them on Mother’s Day. As we do, let’s remember the divine mission that was given to Mary, the mother of Jesus.
Dramatization of Mary with baby Jesus (used with permission FreeBibleImages.org)
For some, Mary is a super-human, mystical object of devotion. That’s unfortunate in that it can cause one to under-appreciate the courage and faith that Mary showed in humbly accepting her divine calling with these words: “Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38 NASB). To serve as the Messiah’s mother was a daunting responsibility. But Mary drew strength from her faith in God and comfort and support from her Aunt Elizabeth and her husband-to-be, Joseph.
Mothers today also face great challenges—these are not easy times to bring up children who are content in themselves, have a vital faith and are able to resist the pressures of moral compromise. Often the effort, skill and experience that it takes to be an effective mother (or father!), is devalued in our society, which seems only to value earning money. Investing in “people-making,” as some call parenting, is seriously undervalued as a high calling that takes intelligence, discipline, maturity and a wide range of both practical and personal abilities. Although we tend to think of God in masculine images, we perhaps get the best glimpse of his unrelenting, unconditional love for us when we see the selfless love of a mother for her children.
As Mother’s Day approaches (May 11 in the U.S.), I hope you’ll take time to show appreciation for all mothers, including your own.
Your brother in Christ,
Joseph Tkach
P.S. Though a mother’s true value is not measured in dollars and cents, it might interest you to know that in 2013 a stay-at-home mom’s work was valued at an annual cost of $113,568. [2]
The day following the death of her husband, GCI district pastor and church pastor Arnold Clauson, Trish Clauson wrote in her personal journal the entry reproduced below. She then read it as a tribute to Arnold at his funeral on May 3.
Trish at Arnold’s funeral
Going Forward
Yesterday my beautiful husband died! I still don’t know where to put that…how do I absorb such a thing? If it weren’t for the fact that I believe with every ounce of my being that God is behind this, I would collapse. The weight on my chest is crushing me. I know that death occurs, has been happening for centuries. But how do people do it? Where do you put it?
I am not sure what I am feeling. I am numb and screaming all at the same time. Guess I have been doing that for a while now though. From the moment I first found out that Arnold had cancer I have been on this unstoppable freight train…that just crashed!! And now there is this hole…this space that was his space and it’s not being filled any more. What do I do with that?
My head is so full of opposing thoughts. On the one hand Arnold is in a better place. For all I know he may be singing and dancing with Jesus this very moment. I wouldn’t want to take that away from him…I couldn’t. But then he will be so missed here by so many. I know that life will go on. We will find our way without him. We will find a way to go on and to fill in the gaps he would have filled. But, right now it hurts so much. In time it will become our new normal. We will remember, we will lament, but we will go on.
I am in two minds. In the one is the crushing reality and memories of what just happened. These last eight months have been torture and hell on earth for me. I watched as my beloved husband disappeared before my eyes…disappeared in both mind and body. But never did he complain or question God. He submitted himself completely to God’s will and moved through each day with grace and dignity.
But it was torture to watch. It gutted me. It took everything to keep going every day…to keep up with all of the demands, physically, emotionally, mentally and sometimes even spiritually. When I stand away from it, it devastates me all over again to think about it. It wasn’t pretty. At times the pain was almost unbearable.
But then there was the other mind. The one I willfully chose to go into. The one that showed me where God was…what He might be doing…what I thought I saw Him do. Scriptures came off the pages to me. Psalms 23 became my life-line. I went through it again and again in my mind. I saw myself in it. I saw God in it with me.. .with Arnold. Holding us. Loving us. I knew He was there, so I looked at all of it through His eyes. The eyes of a loving Father choosing to let his beautiful son leave this earth, while holding up His daughter so she wouldn’t crumble into a million little pieces. I saw God there, but not where I wanted Him to be. I wanted Him to deliver us…to bring us back to a place where we could still hold each other and be together, but it became more and more apparent as the months went by, as Arnold’s body continued to shrivel up, that God wasn’t going to stop it Instead He just held me…held me away from the churning waters ready to swallow me into some a great abyss…away from a fire of pain and agony…yearning to consume me.
God gave me everything to go forward…but Arnold. That was never meant to be. Yet, through His eyes of love, He gave me peace. He gave me love. He showed me that out of pain a love and a peace can emerge that passes understanding. That in the depths of tragedy His radiance is often the most brilliant.
When Arnold was taken away, around 5:00 AM Saturday morning, I looked up to the heavens. Morning was just breaking and the sky was clear, still so full of stars. My first thought was, “You would love this sky, my darling.” And then I thought…but we have seen this so many times before…it wasn’t something he hadn’t enjoyed time and again. He would be okay. I just needed now to hold on to the memories of the things he had done…the many things we had done together and not lament those he would no longer be doing.
I went inside and just wandered around the house. My desire was to immediately clean the den and put it back in place. I didn’t want to see the bed and all the hospital equipment anymore. But would I miss it later? How could I? It was never a welcome sight in our home. It held my husband prisoner, yet at the same time it gave him comfort. It was a blessing to have those physical materials to keep him safe and as healthy as possible. It was good and bad…two minds.
Then it hit me. The questions I didn’t see coming, wouldn’t have known would raise themselves up and slap me in the face: Did I do enough? Did I love him enough? Did I tell him enough? Did I appreciate him enough? These questions crushed me all over again. How could I let him go if I didn’t do enough? But before they could wreak havoc in my soul, before they could gut me…I remembered…I remembered over eight months of loving him…bathing him, singing to him, massaging his feet with oil…living most every moment planning every detail of his care. Yes, I did tell him again and again how much I loved him, respected him, admired him. Every day for over eight months.
Could it be true then, could it be real. . .those months of hell and exhausting pain would eventually give me peace and even joy to know. . .that maybe I did enough? He never wondered? He knew? How can this be? How can something so painful, so gut wrenching…be such a gift?
Yesterday was a flurry of what…I don’t know. People sending condolences. I got to talk to so many…I felt okay. I knew that God had this…that He knew what He was doing. I was calm and assured. And then the floodgates would break and I would cry uncontrollably. The pain…the passing…the loss. Two minds.
I keep going back to those final moments, ones that will carry me to the end of my days: My daughter Rachelle and I, and Jennifer the hospice nurse, talking, reminiscing. It was peaceful and comfortable. I was awake and alert…1:00 AM…2:00 AM. Even laughing some. But always watching. Watching Arnold breathe, watching him move further and further away from this life and into the next. Jennifer said to watch his breathing. It will become more shallow and his breaths would get further and further apart. It was obvious that was happening. At one point she offered that we take him off the oxygen. Rachelle looked at me…I didn’t know. Was it because we were so close? Was it time to let him go? Then Rachelle looked at Jennifer and said, “No let’s just leave him on it.” I was thankful to not have to think about that anymore. I went back to watching his breaths.
Then Rachelle said, as her hand lay on his heart, “Look at his neck Mom and you will see his heart beat.” What a gift. I could see his heart beating…holding on to life a little longer. Then I said, “Wow, it’s beating so fast.” But that’s as it had been for months. It just was so strong and it amazed me a little. Then at that moment, for reasons I only believe now to be a move in me from God, I said, “I need to sing him a song.” Even the pronouncement of it surprised me. I don’t know where the song came from. I had no premonition of it, no thoughts beforehand that it would be an appropriate song to sing. But it came: “God be with you til we meet again…hmm, hmm, hmmhmm, hmmm,” I couldn’t remember the words. They were somewhere in the archives of my mind, but they wouldn’t come. Yet, I couldn’t stop to retrieve them, I just had to keep humming…and watching his heart beat. As I sang, his beats slowed a little. I thought, “How nice, my singing is slowing down that rapid beat. I am calming his soul.” I continued singing, his heart continued to slow…and as I finished “God be with you til we meet again”…it stopped. I was in shock. What was I seeing? I looked up to his mouth…there were no breaths. I looked at Jennifer who was coming over to check him. Could this be…didn’t he have at least a few hours left? No…he was gone…he was really gone.
Moments before this all began, I had been telling Rachelle that I didn’t know how to “hold this space.” I knew we were watching him fade…I knew that in time he would leave us. I wanted to find a way to hang on to those last moments. And then it happened…there it was another gift from God. It all happened so fast, there wouldn’t have been time for me to plan any of it, even if I had had the mind to do it. It just happened. I felt God gave me the privilege of taking my precious husband’s hand and ushering him into his new world…a world without pain, or suffering…a world that would no longer hold him prisoner to his mind and body. He was now safe. He was now and forever to be okay. And I, his other half, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh…got to walk with him to that space to let him go. I could almost see him waving back to me…a big smile on his face as if to say, “See you soon.” A gift in the middle the greatest loss of my life. Love out of the midst of sorrow. Two minds. One here on earth and the other with eyes on our loving, heavenly Father.
Gifts…so many gifts. And I expect God isn’t through with me yet. He seemed to go to such great lengths to be sure that I was being cared for during these past eight months even with Arnold still beside me. I am sure I can expect no less as I go forward now without him. I can’t imagine what that will look like. I have never wanted it. Still don’t. But now I have no choice.
With the one mind I will ache. The pain and the loneliness will be suffocating at times I am sure. I will hate it. Yet with the other mind…the one that is assured of my Father’s love for me…assured that in His choice to let Arnold leave my side, that it was not to punish me or to become a continuous trial. Instead it is some divine timing on His part to further a plan of which I am not privy, but obviously a part of…a plan that will be continuously immersed in His love and care.
From the moment we first heard the word “cancer” my constant and continuous prayer was, “God, please orchestrate every detail.” But so many of them were too hard to accept. They didn’t make sense. I couldn’t reconcile so much pain with a God who is love. Yet, I knew I had to keep trusting Him…I had to keep believing that He knew what He was doing. Because if Arnold died, I couldn’t lose God too!
I have watched God work in my life for 50 years now. We have a history together and it is always the same. In the midst of pain. . .in the midst of the worst pain comes the greatest blessings. . .the most profound connections made with the Creator of this Universe. He never ceases to keep me on my knees, and in total awe of His goodness and His faithfulness. This time was no different.
All I can say is “Good-bye my darling. I will miss you deeply and profoundly. I will hold the memories of our life together in my heart and I will cherish the parts of you that connected with the parts of me, molding me into the person I have become today. I will look forward with more eagerness than ever to see you again. I want to hear your voice again. I want to hear how this experience changed you. I want to feel your arms around me. But, also know I will be okay in the meantime. Not only am I certain that God now has my back, as you have always had, I also know that I can’t let you down. You taught me so much, by just being, and doing. I watched and I learned. You were the love of my youth, the love of my life and the strength of my soul. No other, besides Jesus, has ever held a place so deeply in my heart. So, I will say one more time, ‘God be with you till we meet again.'”
New church in the Philippines
New Creation Fellowship held its inaugural worship service on April 13 in Binan City in the Philippines.
The new church is the outgrowth of small group Bible studies held beginning in 2005. The studies were conducted for children and adults by the husband-and-wife team of Nomer and Gemma Venus. Nomer will serve as the pastor, assisted by Gemma and other members of a pastoral team.
The initial Bible studies were mostly attended by the workers and family members of the business firm owned by Nomer and Gemma. Meetings were held under mango and acacia trees, until a concrete church building was built on the couple’s property. Since those meetings began, 60 people have been baptized, and 80 children have participated in a Vacation Bible School conducted in the summers.
At the inaugural service, area superintendent Rey Taniajura gave the sermon, there was a blessing of children service, a communion service, and the announcement that a prep school managed by the church will also be established by next year. Also, Gemma (shown in the picture at right) gave a testimony concerning the starting of the church.
Update on Burundi
This update is from Kalengule Kaoma, one of GCI’s mission directors in Africa. It reports on the aftermath of the flooding in Burundi, which was addressed in an earlier post here in GCI Weekly Update.
Many people in Bujumbura, capital city of Burundi, vividly remember the February 2014 floods that affected the city. Victims, especially, carry memories that will be part of their history. To check on how GCI Burundi members were coping with the aftermath of the flood, Kimani Ndungu, East Africa Area Pastor and I arrived in Bujumbura on a hot and humid morning in April.
Joyce Sibomana and her baby sister
Our host, Pastor Eugene Sibomana, met us at the airport and drove us to a hotel near his house. Before receiving an update on the status of the members, we got in a taxi and went to the hospital where the youngest Sibomana girl was receiving treatment for diarrhea. We prayed for both mother and child. The child was discharged from the hospital a few days later.
Over 60 GCI families were affected by the flooding. Pastor Sibomana told of how he woke up in the night and found that one wall of his bedroom had fallen. When he got off the bed, he stepped into floodwater. His home was extensively damaged.
“When we see clouds forming in the sky, we get out of our houses. We are afraid that strong winds will come again and blow off our roof,” said a woman who attends GCI. Although no life was lost among GCI members, many people suffered losses. Houses fell, clothes and beddings were swept away. Kitchen utensils floated away with swift-flowing floodwater. Children lost their books and school supplies.
Despite physical losses, our members are well. Our GCI home office sent $15,000 from the GCI Disaster Relief Fund, which Kimani and I took to Burundi. With these funds, we assisted over 200 people representing 60 families. Each family received 15 tin sheets for house roofing and 10 kilograms each of rice and beans. Students received notebooks and pens. Pastor Eugene Sibomana extended appreciation for the generosity of the GCI congregations and members in the U.S. who donated to the Disaster Relief Fund—they truly made a difference in the lives of those who were affected by the floods.
Church “re-planting”
In developing an established church, it is sometimes helpful to “re-plant.” In a recent Christianity Today article, Ed Stetzer of LifeWay Research discusses a book entitled Replant that helpfully addresses the topic. To read the article, go to www.christianitytoday.com/edstetzer/2014/april/replant-book-and-case-study-redeemer-kansas-city.html. For assistance evaluating the possibilities of replanting your GCI-USA congregation, contact any of CAD’s ministry developers:
On April 12 retired GCI vice president, Dr. J. Michael Feazell (pictured at left), received an award (pictured below) for outstanding community service from the Graduate School of Theology at Azusa Pacific University (APU) at its 30th anniversary celebration.
Dr. Feazell, the first graduate of APU’s Doctor of Ministry program, joined 30 other alumni of graduate degree programs who received awards at the celebration. His contribution to GCI was summed up in these words of tribute:
“The award for outstanding community service is presented to Dr. J. Michael Feazell. Dr. Feazell received his Doctor of Ministry degree in 1998 and is most noted for being instrumental in leading Grace Communion International through a difficult but successful doctrinal transition and spiritual renewal. This monumental achievement was chronicled in his 2001 book entitled, The Liberation of the Worldwide Church of God, available from Zondervan Publishing. For outstanding community service and impact on a community and ministry through both leadership and vision, please join me in congratulating Dr. Feazell!”
Research shows that women, on average, talk about three times as much as men. The average woman notches up about 20,000 words in a day, which is about 13,000 more than the average man. Women also generally speak more quickly and devote more brainpower to speaking. So far, research has been unable to explain exactly why, though some evidence points to a genetic cause. [1] After 60 years of my own observation, I think I have a plausible explanation: motherhood.
