I have labored in love as a single mom for almost 16 years. My children are grown now, the youngest just graduated from high school. As I look back, I know I did the best I could. I chose to say ‘Yes’ to the Lord every day, but was often weak in walking out the yes. As often as I said yes, I messed up twice as much. So, I learned quickly the power of the words, “I’m sorry, will you forgive me”. These simple words brought great healing and restoration to relationships and to the souls of my children. However, in the midst of it all, these questions often plagued my mind
• Did I do enough?
• Did I give enough?
• Did I love enough?
• Did I love well?
• Did my actions, the simple things, minister the love of the Father to my children?
• Am I making an impact on their hearts?
Are our children meeting the Lord through the simple lives we lead?
I was reminded of the answer to these questions this week as I was cleaning out some old notebooks. I came upon a letter my daughter wrote about 4 years ago while she was home from college. She shares how she met with the Lord and ministered to my weary soul over a simple bowl of FROSTED FLAKES.
There is something beautiful to me about Frosted Flakes. Here at my mother’s house, I could have had grapefruit, granola, eggs, or an English muffin, but I forsook all those adult options when, in response to my query, “Mom, do we have any cereal?” She escorted me to the pantry (my mom is the kind of mom that doesn’t just tell you, she shows you and helps you and leaves whatever she is doing to be in the same room to respond to whoever plaintively just yelled, “Mom!”) and reviewed the five selections, starting with the unopened box of Trader Joe’s frosted flakes. That was it. Frosted Flakes was what I wanted this morning, and even though I ‘m trying to cut back on carbs and sugar and dairy and all the other detrimental ingredients found in the pastries and lattes I frantically subsist on from the nooks and crannies of my coffee-shop-manager job, this cereal, on this day, symbolized wholesomeness. Frosted Flakes meant that ‘I’m home’, and since it was a minor miracle that such a sugary food was found in my mother’s pantry, especially unopened by my brothers, I felt as I ripped open the wax paper in the blue and white box, that I was about to do something spiritual. Communion: with my family, my home, my past, my childhood. God said to me this morning, ‘Take, Eat, in remembrance of Me in your life, in your self.” So as I sat at my mother’s brightly colored kitchen table and stared out into the greenness of the freshly rained yard, I remembered how it felt to be small and cared for and cheeky and cheerful, and as the sugary cornflakes dissolved in my bowl of milk and squished against the roof of my mouth, each clink of the spoon against the bottom of the bowl seemed to ring in strength to return to the soul of my self. I’ve never forgotten how to be a child, but sometimes there’s no time for it, and when the fullness of functioning squelches the joy of thriving from my daily life, God gives me my home, my mom, and a bowl of Frosted Flakes to restore my soul. Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Psalm 23:6 NKJV
By Misty Honnold
Mother of 2 adult girls, 2 adult sons & 2 amazing NEW sons (married to daughters)
1 Corinthians 13 Parenting Team Member
Executive Director and Founder of The Single MOM KC
Hostess of Mocha Moments For The Single MOM