Happy Mother's Day!



I saw this picture today and my mind filled with a million memories.  Growing up my mother was wonderful.  Not that she was perfect.  But in most ways that truly mattered, she got it mostly right.

I think some of that comes from the fact that she had an amazing mother, who had an amazing mother.  I know this for a fact because I had the privilege of knowing both my grandmother and my great-grandmother.  Both of them godly women who sacrificially loved their families and made everyone round them feel special.

I don't remember my mom ever spending time jabbering on the phone for hours to friends.  I don't remember her ever telling me she was too busy to play with me.  I don't remember her being terribly concerned about having a fashionable home or the latest clothing.  I don't remember her planning elaborate daily lessons for me or craft projects or anything like that.

However I do remember many other things about my mother.  Things that I would love for my kids to someday remember about me.

My mother was always there to comfort me every time my heart hurt.  Her hugs felt safe and I distinctly remember being small enough to sit on her lap when she seemed big to me. I loved having her read me stories long after the age when most children have said goodbye to bedtime stories.  One of my favorite times of the day was when she would read the bible to me before bed.  She never seemed to grow weary of fulfilling my constant request for the book of Esther.  She was great at make believe and would sit on the floor to actually play with me.

I remember the early Sunday mornings when she would work hard to get herself and her two girls looking pretty for church.  My hair was always done and  my clothes were always ironed.  She taught me that we were not dressing up for other people but to show respect to God.  However, her faith in God wasn't just for Sunday morning, she talked about Him all week long.... as we went about our days together she would frequently relate life experiences to Scriptural Truths.  She would tell stories of how God had worked in her own life, of promises he had given to her, of how He had comforted her through grief and how she saw Him working in my own life.  Her stories became my own.

As the teenage years came she was always available to listen.  She stayed involved in my life...volunteering in whatever activities I was interested in, cheering me on at every race and at every concert, driving my friends and I at all hours of the night... even buying us toilet paper for late night fun.  Of course there were times when I was angry at a decision she had made, but it never lasted long.  I always knew she loved me.  always.  I always felt like she thought I was beautiful and smart and funny and fabulous.  always.  I always felt like she thought I could do anything.  always.

Now I am a mom to five beautiful children.  Life often seems crazy.  So many things screaming for my attention...  and it seems I often fall into chasing after the urgent instead of cultivating quality time with my children.  I hope in the end, though, they too will remember the times we just sat and watched clouds go by or played UNO for hours or that I actually listened to their hearts as they talked to me.  I hope they remember feeling safe snuggled in my arms and it empowers them to go out and take the world.  I hope that when they are grown up they will think about me and they will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved them with every fiber of my being.  

And I pray that my time with my girls inspires them to motherhood.  Just like the time with my mother did for me.

Happy Mother's Day!

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