Monthly Archives: May 2011

Mother of Others

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Mary, Tom and I were blessed with a mom who turned life into a party, not always using the sound reasoning of an adult but making perfect sense to children.

For example, in the fifties when we’d go to the dentist, each of us would have multiple cavities not having had the benefit of fluoride. But after each dental appointment, because we were “so brave,” she’d walk us across the street to the candy store.

Mom made life good. She allowed as many pets as we wanted and gave us the freedom to roam the neighborhood. She let us strike matches, use the sharpest knives on our Halloween pumpkins and climb onto the roof “just to see what birds see.” She invited each of our grade school classes to our house for lunch every school year, let us set our own bedtimes, and if we asked her to read a story, she’d read and read until we finally said, “Ok, that’s enough.”

But having the funnest mother in the neighborhood had a down side to it: we had to share her.

I remember bristling as a grade school child when other kids flocked to Mom. Mary and I even talked about how it felt to be ranked with the masses, responding with childish self-focus to the dilemma of having a popular mom. But once we became mothers, we realized we’d been observing a woman using her gifts just as God intended. Jesus said, “Let the kids come.” Mom was just following his example.

Every child was priceless to her, and she experienced deep pleasure in loving them. The apostle Paul wrote, “When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things.” (1 Corinthians 13:11)

Not Mom.

Even as an adult, she thought like a child, and truth be told, she never put away childish things. That’s why she was a kid magnet. She was “old” and yet “one of them.” They trusted her as a BFF (Best Friend Forever), and she never let them down.

Isn’t that parallel to why we’re drawn to Jesus Christ? He became “one of us,” experiencing life as we know it. Though he’s actually far superior, he lowered himself into our way of life, willing to endure hardship and fight temptation exactly as we do. And best of all, he can be completely trusted. He’ll never let us down.

Mom was the best-of-all-possible-worlds for a kid. She had the power of an adult (a driver’s license, a house with a kid-friendly basement, money in her purse). Yet she retained the heart of a child.

Jesus is the best-of-all-possible Saviors. He has the power of divinity (the ability to forgive sins, victory over death, the key to heaven). Yet he retained a heart as “one of us.”

Mom gave fully of herself, which made for many happy childhoods. But Jesus gave fully of himself, which makes for eternal happiness!

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)

[Below, Mom-style good times in just several months. And where is she? Behind the camera.]

Risky Business

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When Mom was in her mid-80’s, she wanted to drive from Chicago around the south end of Lake Michigan to her summer home, staying as close to the water as possible. The rest of us doubted the efficacy of her idea, an old lady driving through dangerous neighborhoods for no important reason, but we knew Mom.

She was going to do it.

She asked if any of us wanted to accompany her, and although many of us said, “Sure!” there were always reasons why it wasn’t a good day. Then Mom got tired of waiting. She left her home in Wilmette, 25 miles north of Chicago, and threaded her way south along Sheridan Road, Lake Shore Drive and route 94, enjoying a lake view all the way.

When she got to Gary and Hammond, she had trouble staying close to the shoreline because of the steel mills but said she never lost sight of the water (questionable). She finished her drive to the Michigan cottage on routes 20 and 12, accomplishing her goal.

Naturally we lectured her after the fact, but half of her joy was in showing up the rest of us. When I asked if she’d been nervous anywhere along the way she said, “Be friendly to people, and they’ll be friendly to you.” Who knows what she encountered.

Dad was accurate when he said, “Your Ma is a risk-taker.” When it involved our children, however, we cringed, like the time she let our preschoolers drive her car by having them crawl under her feet and push the break and gas pedals with their hands. Or the time she sent two 2 year olds to the beach unaccompanied. We found them playing in the lake.

Another time she took our 4 and 5 year old girls to Chicago’s Adler Planetarium. Once inside the building, she remembered their snack bags in her car.

“Grandma’s tired,” she said, plunking down on a planetarium bench. “Here’s the car keys. Remember where we parked?” The two little girls headed down the wide steps and into a massive parking lot in downtown Chicago in search of snack bags. I can’t even list the multiple risks she took in doing this.

Recently some friends and I talked about risk-taking in relation to aging. As the years pile up, most of us get cautious, eliminating risk wherever possible. Guaranteed safety becomes more and more attractive, and without our realizing it, the world shrinks, along with many positive possibilities.

We agreed it’s a good idea to fight this natural shut-down, forcing ourselves to take at least minimal risks. We should keep driving in busy cities, going out after dark, trying new foods, meeting new people, traveling to faraway places. But how?

By factoring in God. We’re supposed to trust in his care. But will he come through if we’re risking too much? He wants us to walk in wisdom, which is usually somewhere between wild risk and none at all, a difficult place to live. I think its called moderation.

Amazingly, Mom’s risk-taking never got her in trouble. And she sure had fun! Maybe God assigned extra angels to “keep her in all her ways.” 

Is there such a thing as “wise risk?” Although Mom’s risk management was sometimes foolish, taking no risks is foolish, too.

 “Moderation is better than muscle, self-control better than political power.” (Proverbs 16:32)

Oh Mama!

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In honor of Mothers Day, and because so many of you blog-readers love stories about my mom, here’s a bit of info about her. As you read between the lines, you’ll see how she came to be the colorful person she was.

 

Mom was born at home in 1912, arriving just before Christmas. Because she was due in 1913, she told everyone she wasn’t as old as they thought.

She was born too soon and was unhealthy, so the doctor told her parents not to name her. That way when she died, they wouldn’t be too attached. And so she remained “Baby James” through December and into 1913. By St. Patrick’s Day her father, a full-blooded Irishman, nicknamed her “Pat” after the holiday. He called her that for the rest of his years.

Eventually they officially named her Evelyn Pauline after an older brother, Everett Paul, who died at the age of 8 in a school yard accident.

Growing up during the Great Depression, she learned to squeeze a penny till Lincoln squirmed and made sure we could pinch him, too. She married a shy, 42 year old Swede when she was 29. Unable to wait until he popped the question, she did it herself.

When asked what she wanted as a housewarming gift, she said, “Toys for children who might visit us.” Before she had any of her own kids, though, she made friends with all the neighborhood children, and while in labor with her first baby passed out chocolate chip cookies before heading for the hospital.

After having two little girls born 20 months apart, Mom was expecting a third when she began hemorrhaging and was rushed to the hospital. After being given the wrong blood type from an inaccurately labeled bottle, she nearly died. But God had other plans for Evelyn Pauline Pat James Johnson.

Although doctors cautioned Mom not to become pregnant again, our brother Tom came along on Dad’s 50th birthday, a definite bonus to all of us. To this day I think Mom tricked Dad, since she’d wanted nothing more than a houseful of children. Eventually she got her wish with 17 grandchildren, all local and all in love with their grandma.

Mom viewed children as marvels to be cherished, protected and admired. She never encountered a child she didn’t approve of and although she rubbed off on them, her greatest joy came when they rubbed off on her.

She also loved music and practiced piano daily. In her teens she taught lessons, in her thirties played the four-keyboard organ for Moody Church, and in her prime accompanied enough weddings and funerals to put us through college, although she gave the money back to the bride instead.

Mom memorized entire books of the Bible, taught high school Sunday school for decades and conducted in-home Bible studies throughout her married life. But she also loved a good practical joke and made good use of her whoopee cushion, plastic vomit and artificial dog poop. No wonder kids loved her.

Dad used to say Mom was a risk-taker. Tomorrow I’ll tell you a story that proves it.

“A cheerful heart is good medicine.” (Proverbs 17:22)