Happy Birthday, Gerda!

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Today is my mother-in-law’s 82nd birthday. I miss her. Strange things often remind me of her, like serving spoons and quirky characteristics Lily displays.

I’ve shopped the following article around to a few magazines in pursuit of the elusive publication success. I decided to post it on the blog today as a tribute to the mother of my husband and to honor a remarkable woman of God on her birthday. I wonder how they celebrate birthdays in heaven. I imagine they’re partying big time.

The Mother-in-Law Secret
By Carolyn C. Koning

Mothers-in-law. Some are genuinely winsome—others, fiendish. Alas, even under the best of circumstances, this relationship is often a strained one. Paul’s mother died in 2008 on Mother’s Day in India while on the last of numerous mission trips. I am so thankful I discovered the Mother-in-Law Secret in time to relish this precious relationship.

Paul’s mother was a first-class prayer warrior. At her memorial service, we displayed her tattered Bible and reams of handwritten prayer requests for which she prayed faithfully. She prayed for different extended family members on certain days of the week. She prayed for some of us every day. If she ever said, “I’ll be praying for you,” you can bet your bottom dollar that she carried your concern regularly to the Mercy Seat until she heard that the situation had resolved. She prayed for missionaries around the world. She prayed for her siblings’ children and grandchildren and great grandchildren to come to know Christ. She prayed for our president and other government leaders, for pastors and Sunday school teachers, about the weather, and more. Paul was Gerda’s only son. I’m willing to guess with significant confidence that, from the moment she knew of Paul’s existence, she prayed daily for his future wife. Twenty-six years later, we finally met.

To some onlookers, Paul and I may seem like an odd match, but I believe the way we complement each other is a specific answer to Gerda’s relentless prayers. However, I always worried that she thought I was from a different planet. Gerda and I were east and west, night and day, oil and water. I often wondered if she ever asked God if He had misunderstood her prayers: surely, I was a mistake. I was confident that I was not what she had in mind when she prayed every single day for twenty-six years for a godly wife for Paul. I’m sure she never imagined a woman who talked as much as I do. I’m sure she envisioned someone more like June Cleaver than Lucy Ricardo. The one and only thing Gerda and I had in common was our faith in the Lord Jesus, but in the end and as always, He was enough.

Paul’s mother was a flawless housekeeper; her home was always “Dutch clean.” On a regular basis, she swept baseboards with her little straw whisk broom. A vacuum cleaner attachment did not produce satisfactory results. Baseboards? People really clean baseboards? Cleaning has never been one of my fortes. Whenever Grandma and Grandpa were scheduled to arrive for a visit, I would endeavor in a frenzy to accomplish weeks, maybe months, worth of straightening and cleaning. Generally, the result was presentable, but I knew it was never as good as she would have done. After our children, Lily and Silas, were born, she was rather outspoken about how children should be raised. I was easily offended when she suggested an approach other than what we were doing in response to acting-out behaviors.

Whenever we visited Paul’s parents or they visited us, I found myself begging God, “Please let Lily and Silas be obedient. Please let Lily and Silas be obedient. Please let Lily and Silas be obedient.” Inevitably, because they are, indeed, children, they would get into something or do something they were told not to do or even break something, and once again, our parenting methods were proven to be erroneous and ineffective. My anxiety and even depression at times over the situation caused Paul significant grief. He couldn’t change either me or his mother; he loved both of us, and he desired peaceful, fun family gatherings. Gerda and I were never outright hostile toward one another, but when we were together, I seemed to hyper-focus on my shortcomings, and I imagined that she was critically scrutinizing my every move.

I agonized over this never-ending cycle until I finally figured out the Mother-in-Law Secret. I began to follow the example of my mother-in-law. I began praying for her. Rather than praying for Lily and Silas to be 100% obedient, which is really quite impossible, I prayed for them to be blessings to Grandma. I prayed that she would get to know her grandchildren and enjoy them. I prayed that I would be a blessing to her, that God would show me ways to encourage her, that we would both enjoy our relationship. I consciously had to make myself stop worrying about what she was thinking (or not thinking, as the case may be). I needed to realize that it was not my responsibility to please her and that we might never agree on how to load a dishwasher or how to raise children. In truth, those differences didn’t matter. I began to thank God for her, for her godly example to me and to my children, and for her life of faithful service to the Lord Jesus.

As much as I wanted her to change, I was the one who needed changing. The results were incredibly sweet. I genuinely looked forward to her visits and her company. My soul filled with joy as I watched Silas explaining some convoluted idea to her as she listened attentively. I cherished the scene of Lily and her playing Scrabble for hours, meticulously keeping score. I remember one particular weekend at their little condo when all six of us had worked for hours on an impossible 1000-piece puzzle. Grandpa decided to take Paul, Lily, and Silas down to his little makeshift workshop where he creates spectacles for pennies—his faithful, tireless, never-ending contribution toward the fulfillment of the Great Commission. Left puzzling with Grandma, I thought about what a remarkable woman she was and how blessed I was that she was my mother-in-law. We worked in silence (which was generally easy for her, more challenging for me), but it was a sweet silence—the kind you feel with those you truly love, and who you know love you, the kind you don’t necessarily need to fill with conversation for the sake of conversation. And I thanked my God. He had abundantly answered my prayers.

My in-laws didn’t stumble upon Paul’s name by accident. They named him for one of history’s earliest and most influential missionaries because of their mutual passion for missions. Paul and I met in Kenya where we were both serving as missionaries. While they never said as much, Paul’s parents may have been disappointed when we didn’t return to the mission field soon after we were married. It was no coincidence then that we were in Kenya when Gerda died. Perhaps she had been praying that God would lead us back into missions. His timing may have been different than she would have liked, but ultimately, her faithful God answered her prayer, as He always had. Grandma and Grandpa were in India teaching Indian Christians to make Grandpa’s glasses when God called her home. Even in her death, she continued to be a godly example for my children.

I’m so thankful I figured out the Mother-in-Law Secret in time to enjoy that relationship and to appreciate God’s blessings for me through her. God has infinite blessings for daughters-in-law through mothers-in-law if we will simply allow Him to speak and work through people we may perceive to be unlikely candidates.

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