In her broken English, she tells me, “Lola, just lissen. OK.
Your brother is driving me crasee. He depress. He need money for car. He like to be
taxi driver, but need car. I give him cash. I pray to God
to give me . . . you know, strong.”
“You mean strength?”
My 74-year-old mother lives with my
brother who doesn’t have all his ducks in a row.
“Do you know you always rescue him?” I say into the phone.
She doesn’t listen.
“I give. I am tired of this. He only want to be taxi driver.”
I’m the one who takes care of my mom’s finances. We have
set aside emergency money
just in case she goes to a rehab center or requires a nurse.
But for my mom, when it comes to her grown children,
it’s always an emergency.
Fear rises in me again. I fear what we will do when my mother’s
emergency funds are all used up.
Taking a deep breath and releasing all my tension, I know what to do.
I know what my reality will be. Once again I choose faith.
My action is to close my eyes and recall my mantra.
“Holy Spirit, I don’t know what to do.
I release my mom and my brother to you.”
I say this as many times as I can to get hold
of my mind and body. And not react to
my mom’s call. This aligns who I am and what my part is in this
mess with what can I control to make a difference. I feel better.
Everyone has days and phone calls like mine.
What is your mantra?
What is your reality like? Is it with Faith or Fear?
Bind our fears.
Guide us to trust you
with all our hears and not
lean on our own understanding.