Hey guys, it's Tiffany, your friendly, neighborhood Admin/Finance guru/over-user of comma's. For anyone who has paid your registration, you know that a portion of it goes to pay MOPS International. One of the perks of THAT membership is this lovely little magazine-let they put out called Hello, Darling. If i'm being honest, I haven't paid much attention to it lately, haha! But I got the newest one the other day and I just felt a push to read it. I knew instantly why I felt that push. I only made it to page 5 when I saw what looked like an editor letter but the title said "A Farewell Letter" and I was super intrigued. I read it and cried. And since reading it i've:
A) Felt compelled to share the letter with you (for anyone who doesn't get the magazine and helloooooo motivation to pay your dues, huh?)
B) Felt compelled to shout from the rooftops why I love MOPS and how it's changed my life.
I'm gonna save B for a later date, and I kept trying to find a way to do A simply enough on the Facebook page but I just couldn't find the right snippet to share. So i've decided this is the best way to share the whole thing. So, here goes:
A Farewell Letter by Vicki Dillard
Dear MOPS Moms,
This was my last MOPS meeting after nearly ten years. We moms walked in with a wild and bewildered look in our eyes but left ready to be supermom again. There was always someone to laugh and cry with us. Ladies here held my babies so I could drink hot coffee. We've known some for years, some for months. We love every person in this room and know we are each loved. It's what MOPS is, and who we are as individuals and as a group.
I didn't know any of this when I sat down with my 11-week-old son. All I knew was the promise of a two hour break, food, and me time. I came in late, and some nice lady traded me my baby for coffee. My three year old was happily playing. I could have cried with relief. Those two hours flew by. I couldn't wait for next month.
Eight days later my husband was killed at work. My youngest was 12 weeks old, and I had to figure out custody issues with my oldest. I was trying to comfort my children and plan a funeral. Then, Martha showed up with dinner and a shoulder. A woman I knew for two hours stopped her life to make mine bearable. Women took my children for an hour so I could breathe or shower. Women poured out love on me. Someone they only knew for 2 hours.
I went to the next meeting, and I got to be normal. I wasn't a wife who buried her husband, or a mom with little sleep. I was just Vicki. I began to heal. I was lovingly put back together by coffee, food and silly crafts. My shattered state held together with hot glue, ribbon and glitter.
Encouraging notes came from MOPS groups all over the country. Someone sent flowers on Valentine's Day. Someone took me out for my birthday.
I was happy to celebrate my last meeting. It was the perfect circle...with fingerprints and smudge marks. My last meeting was just as amazing as the first one except this time I saw it -- love. Plain, simple love. There are no borders. It doesn't matter how old you are, it doesn't matter if you are married or poor. It doesn't matter if your child came from your body or someone else's. It just matters you are a mom, and you are here.
We matter, moms.
Vicki is a MOPS mom (well, retired) from California but she could be any of us. It may take one meeting, it may take 2 years of meetings, but you will all, I hope, get to see and feel the MOPS love. See all of you wonderful, brave ladies at our next meeting!
Over the course of the next year we look forward to bringing you posts from members of our steering team, our mentor moms, MOPS Volunteer Staff and the MACC pastoral staff!