They shared their stories and we took the stage together. Listen to Your Mother is a show of stories about motherhood. Honest, confessional, hilarious, heartbreaking moments, collected into one show. I keep going back to these stories. When I hear of a friend who is in the middle of a MOMENT, I keep going back to these stories and wanting to take my friends along, too. I tell them about these stories.
I want them to hear Kayla Aimee make us laugh about #motherhood or hear Kristyn’s honest laments and questions. I want them to hear the strength in Raivon’s healing, the confessions in Renee’s experience and the truth Nikki tells us about how motherhood is an adventure. Each and every one of these voices offers us something so beautiful.
So, now you can hear their stories. And mine.
When we took the stage back in April, I said this: “From the first table read with these ladies, I knew there was something special happening when we listened, heard and made space for these stories. It took me until this morning to realize why it struck a chord in my soul. This story sharing and giving words to experience has resonated so deeply with me. And I realized. We have a word for this in the Christian tradition: This is called witness. Witness is a spiritual practice, one in which you tell what you have experienced and how it has shaped your life. You tell what you have seen. One person gives voice to what has happened in their own life and the gathered community makes space for it. We lean in for it, nod, and listen for truth that their story may have for us. Because what has happened in one life matters to the rest of us. That is what happens in this show called Listen to Your Mother. In 39 cities across the country, LTYM is “giving motherhood a microphone.”
Some in our show are published writers and bloggers. Some are just fabulous women with a story to tell. Not one of these stories is alike and not one story comes from a woman who has it all together, picture perfectly. Some of the stories made me belly laugh and some make me cry. But I have been changed because of each woman’s story. They have each reminded me about the power of story, about how we need one another.” I am so very thankful for these beautiful women.
Also from Erin Robinson Hall
Palm Branches
They held palm branches. Little hands, raised high among the gathered people held symbols of peace and protest. We wanted them to walk. We sang along as they enacted the gospel story. Palm Sunday tradition had them marching and laying their branches at the foot of a reasonably-sized cross. The children of our church waving palm branches. We read the scripture about people who marched with palms. “When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’” A city in turmoil reaches my heart today. One week ago, I was meeting on Zoom with my team, who calls Nashville home. My friend Eileen got a text from her daughter and froze. “It’s a school shooting.” Silence fell. A pause that held the question we parents ask these days: Did this latest shooting reach my child? She breathed and we realized, not this one. A school nearby, down the road. We learned that another team member has family in The Covenant School. They escaped, not physically harmed. Fear, anxiety, and grief washed through us. Within hours, my social media feeds filled with ads for bullet-proof notebooks and classroom walls that transform into bunkers. Bullet-proof barriers for sale, the commodification of our nightmares. The market is ready to respond. Stock prices on guns shoot up, while I stifle an honest Lenten confession: I want the power to protect my family. I need something in my hand so no harm can touch my children. One week later, a walk out is planned. At 10:13 am, the time the school shooting began, thousands of students across Nashville walked out....
Watch the Clouds
Today, we loaded up our little circus and took a drive. The kids had a school holiday, and we planned a little fun out of the house. Didn’t matter that the weather forecast screamed “stay home” or that the clouds tried to warn us. We packed enough snacks for this crew and drove to see the animals at Dauset Trails. In our family, this is a week for celebrating adventures. We are celebrating our “Coming Home Day” tomorrow, the day we brought our kids home. Adventure in the rain felt just right for this morning, and we had fruit snacks, so why not? Halfway into our drive, the sky opened up and rain began to pour. I watched the older kids’ faces. Logan, our oldest son, whispered, “Does this mean we got in the car and came all this way for nothing?” Disappointment doesn’t always go over well with this crew. I said, “Nope. It does not mean that at all, buddy. It means . . . Disney Rules! Now, you watch the clouds.” He grinned and knew exactly what I meant. My husband forgot this particular Disney Rule, but trusted that I could avoid the whining and tears for a while with this plan. We adore Disney World, and the first time my husband and bio son Logan went to Disney, I laid out my “rules.” There are many, all brilliant. The one about rain and storms, I will share. It goes like this. When it storms at Disney, as it does every afternoon, you do not leave the park. You do not hide away in a store...
I Brave
Deep waters, flames, and fears have come before. They will probably come again. But the narrative I want my child to have, and the narrative I hope to voice continually for myself and for my family is this: Fear doesn’t win. We are strong. And just in case we’re not brave enough, we will be brave for each other.
