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Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering. Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.

AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a JOYN India bag. Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.

If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit www.pearlgirls.info, subscribe to our blog, and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith to help support Pearl Girls™.

Mother Ship by Melody Murray

Mother Ship (N.) – a ship that serves or carries one or more smaller ships.

Raising two boys in India is quite nice, really. We have monkeys, scooters, plenty of dirt, and mountains. The challenges are comical. I found very quickly on that if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. It’s been an excellent motto for our three years thus far, one I learned shortly after our arrival here in June of 2010.

We’d been in India for just three days when I had my first major meltdown. Our two boys, ages three and four, were sitting in big plastic buckets in our smelly bathroom, covered with mosquito bites, jetlagged as can be. I was frantically pouring cold water over them, trying to scrub off the India grime that had caked on their scrawny little bodies. I was having to hold them like puppy dogs so they wouldn’t scurry out from underneath the cold water. It was a far cry from the sweet, warm, bubbly, happy bath time we’d experienced together for the past four years in the States! Talk about culture shock. They were in shock. I was in shock. I’m sure the neighbors were in shock, too. I’m not sure my boys have ever seen me scream, cry, and stomp that much. Thank God it is just a memory now.

Somehow, by God’s grace, we’ve figured out life here. It looks much different than I had ever thought it would look, especially as a mother. We don’t go to the library, make elaborate crafts, play T-ball, shop at Target, sing in church choir, or take family bike rides. I have had to redefine my ideal upbringing for my children and have had to let go of many expectations. But I’ve managed to grasp hold of a new set of dreams.

My children are global kids. They have an incredible adventure every day. They see the “majority world” firsthand. I think they are some of the most privileged kids I know. I’ve stopped feeling sorry for myself that my kids don’t get to go to ballgames or have a huge tree house or wear cute clothes. Why focus on what I think they’ve lost, only to lose sight of what they’re gaining?

My attitude shift didn’t come easily. I can be quite stubborn. I clung to what I knew and what I thought was “normal” and “right,” as all of us moms do. I’d cry after phone conversations with friends back home who had their children signed up for karate, soccer, and swim lessons, with loads of choices for good schools, churches, and neighborhoods. I had nothing of the sort available for my kids, and I felt bitter and resentful.

But then I slowly began to change. Slowly, after months of getting over culture shock and cold baths, we began to love this place and the people we were with. We began to know them, understand them, become like them. Our community here became our family. Just this week, I’ve been sick with an awful kidney infection, and my living room has been full of my Tibetan, Nepali, and Indian friends, bringing me food, rubbing my feet, playing with my children, washing my dishes. I’ve never experienced community in this way before. My boys are loved so well by so many. And they are learning how to love back, even when it’s not easy.

My attitude shift didn’t come quickly, but when it happened, it took a 180°. I realized how wrong I’d been. These people I live with—their kids don’t have organized sports, church choirs, or fancy vacations either. Their kids aren’t signed up for after-school activities and aren’t becoming multi-skilled elementary school prodigies. Yet, in spite of this, they are content. Like none I’ve ever seen. They love each other. Like none I’ve ever seen. They have very little, yet they have so very much.

In the western world of comparisons and endless striving, I believe we sometimes lose touch of the things we actually care most about. I know most of us moms actually don’t care whether our children are the best at T-ball or whether their crafts look better than the next kid’s. But I think we all care deeply that our kids are loved, and that they know how to love. We all have a common dream that our kids will grow up to be world-changers, to strive for what is right, to love the unloved, to see the world in a different way. These are the deepest dreams of moms. So let’s not forget that the most important things we can give our kids are not the things we can buy them or sign them up for. One of the greatest gifts we can give to our children is to give them sails, let them explore new things, meet new people, and learn to make lasting change in this world.

So join me this Mother’s Day. Let’s all be “mother ships,” leading our kids to new adventures, new beginnings, new relationships. Let’s serve and carry our little ones to places they can only dream of, whether it be making dinner for a neighbor, smiling at the homeless man in front of the grocery store, volunteering at a soup kitchen, or moving to India. Let’s take them with us and teach them how to sail.

“A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.” —Grace Murray Hopper

In June 2010, an opportunity arose to work with a small needy community in the Himalayas, so David and Melody Murray and their two young boys packed their bags and moved to Rajpur, North India. Mel has grown JOYN, fulfilling her passion to connect artisans with western markets. They now have a diverse and growing team of Americans, Australians, Indians, Tibetans and Nepalis working together to create a community that strives to take care of each other and bring opportunity to as many as they can. Visit her website for more information.
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First posted June 5, 2008

I was drawn to Cuba first because I adored the madcap adventures of Lucy and Desi. I did love Lucy and her romantic husband from Cuba. I had dreams of some day traveling to Cuba and experiencing some of that glamour.  And we can’t forget Hemingway’s Cuba.  It used to be a playground for Americans before politics (theirs and ours) changed things.   For the most part we are locked out of travel there.  I remember when the ships I worked on changed itinerary.  We were positioned to make Cuba one of our ports whenever the country opened up to us.  After a couple years we crew members lamented the fact that the Miami Cubans pretty much run our government’s policy on Cuba and gave up on the dream of having Cuba as one of our ports.

Cuba became more enticing as I made friends in Jamaica and learned how easy it would be for me to visit there.  It was just a matter of going to Port Antonio and taking a ship over.  I knew that I couldn’t have Cuba stamped on my passport, but so does Cuba.  They just stamp a tourist card and leave your passport blank.  Oh, how very tempting.

Every week in Ocho Rios I would meet my friend, Cyd, at Bill’s Place.  We would visit until I had to get back to my ship before shore leave expired.  Some times Bill would join us.  Once after being gone for several weeks, Bill told us about a trip he had just made to Cuba.  That was one of his regular travel destinations.  Well, this last trip was a little different.  He decided he was going to marry his Cuban lady friend, sell Bill’s Place and buy a home in Cuba.  He showed us his photos, both of his beautiful lady and her beautiful country.  Of course, not all was perfect in Cuba.  But really.  Is it perfect any place?

Bill’s move to Cuba just added fuel to my desire to see that country.  Did I ever go?  The thought of breaking the law was scary, but the thought of finally getting to Cuba and not being able to leave was even scarier.  I just knew I would end up having something go wrong and then get arrested at the Miami airport and put into jail for a nice long time.  Did I ever go?  No, I chickened out.  Do I still want to go?  Absolutely.  There’s even a little glimmer of hope now that Fidel is no longer officially in power.  But the Miami Cubans are a tough bunch.  They won’t even sell you anything in a shop downtown if you don’t speak Spanish.  We’ll talk about that some other time.

Day 4 winner is Nova. She will be receiving Pause for Power and Psalm 91 for Mothers.

Congratulations, Nova.

because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved.

The scripture says, “No one who believes in him will be put to shame.”

For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him.

For, “Everyone who call on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

Romans 10:9-13

Kathryn Lawson George

This is the day set aside to honor our mothers. My mother is now resting in the arms of Jesus. Please be a blessing to your mother while you can.

Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a celebration of moms and mothering. Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers. I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.

AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a JOYN India bag. Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.

If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit www.pearlgirls.info, subscribe to our blog, and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith to help support Pearl Girls™.

My Final Words to My Mother By Lisa Takeuchi Cullen

The day had come.

My mother lay pressed against her pillow, her skin like baking paper, her limbs disposable chopsticks. She had not moved or spoken for days.

In those last days we rarely left her side, my three siblings and I. Between us we had eleven children, the youngest my newborn, whom we had baptized a week ago right here by my mother’s bedside. The children tumbled and danced around the hospice floor, admonished by us to keep quiet, keep quiet! They had already said their good-byes to Nana. Now it was our turn.

The hospice nurses had told us of the final signs. She will cease to wake, even briefly. Her fingers and toes will turn blue. Her breathing will grow shallow and ragged.

Then we heard it. My mother took a breath. That’s all it was—a sip of air. We knew it was time. We rushed around her, my siblings and I, and all together began to sob.

And this is what I said to my mother before she died: “I’ll be all right, Mommy. Don’t worry. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”

Not “I love you.” Not “I’ll miss you.” Not “thank you for everything.” Why? I asked myself that night as I cradled my colicky newborn, both of us wailing. Why did I choose that moment to inform my mother of my own well-being? Why did I feel this was the very thing she needed to know as she drew her last breath?

It took me years as a parent to understand: As mothers, that is exactly what we want to know. We want to know our children are safe. We need to know they’ll be all right as they journey into the world without us by their sides.

I don’t know if my mother heard me. But if she did, I hope my final words eased her journey just a hair. That she believed and trusted in my well-being, and then let go.

Lisa Takeuchi Cullen is the author of Pastors’ Wives, a new novel from Penguin/Plume, and The Ordained, a 2013 CBS drama pilot. Previously, she was a staff writer for Time magazine. Readers can friend her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter @lisacullen, or visit her website at www.lisacullen.com.

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First posted June 4, 2008

Just writing those words makes my mouth water.  Ackee and saltfish is the national dish of Jamaica.  Throw in the rice and peas and I can hardly stand it.  Jerk chicken at the Pork Pit in Mo Bay.  Buffet at the WW in Ochie.  I’m craving some good home cooking like my mother never cooked.  I’ve spent enough time working and playing in Jamaica and the West Indies that when I think of home cooking, that’s where my mind turns.  Oh, and some proper carrot juice.  Not the health food stuff!  The good stuff that comes from the Caribbean.  When I moved back to this area I was so looking forward to many visits to Cephas’ Hot Spot, a small Jamaican restaurant where my taste buds were never disappointed.  But, alas, the irony of it all.  The Hot Spot disappeared in a fire while I was out running around the Caribbean.

I made a short stay in Ormond Beach, FL before moving back home.  I found a very good, authentic restaurant there where I could purchase a meal along with a few groceries.  I was even able to buy hard dough bread.  It was the same brand I used to buy from the grocery in Ocho Rios.  Two things they didn’t have were Blue Mountain coffee or the carrot juice.  They had tried selling the carrot juice when they first opened, but gave up on it as there just weren’t enough people trying it.  There isn’t a very big West Indian community there, and as the owner/cook told me, “Not enough of the Americans know what’s good.”  Oh, my.  What they’re missing!

Times change and I’ve been gone from home too long.  At least the butcher shop where I buy goat to curry is still there.  I’m still looking and will not stop until I find the little grocery stores and restaurants that carry all the good things.  Until then, I still have a bit of a supply on hand.  I’m off to the kitchen to rustle up some ackee and saltfish.  It’s usually a breakfast dish, but I could eat it three times a day and be ready for more the next day.

Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering. Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers. I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.

AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a JOYN India bag. Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.

If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit www.pearlgirls.info, subscribe to our blog, and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith to help support Pearl Girls™.

The Pursuit of Imperfection by Beth Vogt

In my early mommy-ing years, I was all about perfection. I wasn’t going to be just a good mom—oh, no. I grabbed the virtual performance bar and shoved it way out of my reach.

It didn’t take long for that bar to come crashing down on my head. Perfection was toppled by the harsh reality that, at times, I was an angry mom. I hit my knees and begged God for forgiveness, for patience, for the ability to love my children one day at a time . . . sometimes one hour at a time.

I embraced 1 Peter 4:8: Love covers a multitude of mistakes, even altering it a bit so that it met my need. My version of 1 Peter 4:8 became: Love covers a multitude of mommy-mistakes. There was no way I could pretend that I was perfect, but I could do everything possible so that my children knew that I loved them, despite my imperfections.

Fast forward through toddlers and teenagers to being the mother of a twenty-something son, two late-teen daughters, and one (surprise!) elementary-school-age daughter.

During lunch one day with Katie Beth and Amy, my two oldest daughters, Katie Beth looked at me and asked, “Do you want to know what the best thing was about you as a mom?”

Did I? How could I say no to an unexpected “her children will rise up and call her blessed” moment? I assured Katie Beth I absolutely wanted to know the best thing about me as a mom. She looked at me and said, “The best thing about you as a mom was that you weren’t perfect.”

Oh. I admit I expected something . . . more. I joked with my daughter, telling her I wished she’d told me this sooner, as I wasted too much time trying to be perfect. We all laughed and the conversation moved on.

A few weeks later as a prepared a talk on motherhood and perfection for a moms group, I asked Katie Beth, “Can you tell me again why not being perfect was the best thing about me as a mom?”

She emailed me a letter that read: So many kids grow up thinking their parents are up on this pedestal. They think their parents can do no wrong, but then when they fail at something or make a mistake . . . it can tend to devastate those kids. Also, it taught me that being a Christian does not equal perfection. So many people think because they are a Christian they have to be perfect, and I learned from you that, while you are a very loving mother, you are not perfect. It helps me know you don’t expect me to be perfect.

Our children don’t want perfect moms—but they do want to know we love them. And maybe by admitting we’re not perfect, our kids will avoid the perfectionist trap too.

Beth K. Vogt believes God’s best is often behind the doors marked “Never.” After being a nonfiction writer and editor who said she’d never write fiction, Beth has proudly authored two novels, Wish You Were Here and the newly released Catch a Falling Star. Connect with Beth at bethvogt.com.

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Couponing for the Rest of Us

By Kasey Knight Trenum

Founder of Time 2 $ave Shows Busy Woman How to Save Big
Without Spending Hours a Week Clipping Coupons

Couponing expert Kasey Knight Trenum will be the first to tell you that she does not like coupons. But she does love saving money. Faced with mounting bills after her husband was downsized five years ago, Trenum turned to coupons to plug the hole in their savings account. She spent hours researching how to use coupons effectively and easily reduced her family’s weekly grocery bill by 75 percent. “I’ve learned how to balance savings with having a life and without it becoming an obsession,” says Trenum. “I’ve never woken up singing the praises of a coupon; I’ve just sung the joys of saving a ton of money.”

Trenum shares the ins and outs of couponing and all the secrets she’s put to good use over the years in Couponing For the Rest of Us: The Not-So-Extreme Guide to Saving More. With her help, readers will discover ways to save hundreds of dollars every month and ultimately improve their family’s finances without letting it take over their lives. Couponing for the Rest of Us shows readers:
·    Where to find coupons for what your family eats
·    How to make the internet do the work for you
·    How to find sale cycles and store match-ups (and what those terms mean!)
·    How to reinvent your shopping strategy and toss your lists
·    How to make grocery shopping less stressful – even fun!
·    How to turn money saved into money shared
·    Make couponing fit your life not become your life

“If you’re worried that you aren’t a coupon kind of girl, don’t,” writes Trenum. “You don’t have to be in love with coupons. You don’t have to compute math in your head. And you don’t have to set aside hours each week just to work on your coupons. I can’t stress enough – balance is the key to making couponing work for you. You have to figure out how to make it fit into your world; it cannot become your world.”
After shoppers started following Trenum out to her car to find out how she was getting such good deals, she realized she had a lifestyle solution she could share. She began teaching couponing workshops. In 2009, she co-founded Time 2 $ave, a frugal and couponing blog, to help others discover how to make couponing work for them. The silver lining to her savings from coupons became an empowering focus on giving to others.  She has helped thousands improve their lives and become purposeful givers.

ISLAND BREEZES

Everything you wanted to know about couponing and more.

Not everyone wants to become an extreme couponer, but the rest of us do want to save money at the grocery. Well, most of us regular folks who don’t have money to burn want to.

Does this economy have you saying ouch at the grocery (as well as lots of other places)? Then this book is for you.

Couponing can be easy without taking up a bunch of time. This book can get you started. If you already use coupons, this book can make it easier for most of us.

I know there are born organized people out there who maybe don’t need any help. Not me. I struggle to keep going without becoming sidetracked big time.

This book has been a blessing.

***A special thank you to Donna Hausler for providing a review copy.***

Kasey Knight Trenum is the cofounder of Time 2 $ave (www.time2saveworkshops.com), a frugal and couponing blog and conducts Time 2 $ave workshops frequently. Her weekly column can be read in Scripps newspapers nationwide, her work has been featured in Parade and All You and she has been interviewed on NPR’s All Things Considered and HLN’s Making it in America. She has a personal passion for seeing women, men and families find financial freedom, be empowered to improve their lives and become purposeful givers. She and her husband and children live in Tennessee.
Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, offers practical books for everyday life.  For more information, visit www.RevellBooks.com.

Available May 2013 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

Day three winner is Pamela who picked A Noble Groom. She’s been emailed to see which book she would like for her second book. Congratulations, Pamela.