Motherhood

I love my mom. Really, I love my mom. When I was young, she began traveling for a ministry teaching women to study the Bible inductively. Once a month my dad and I would take her to the airport and see her off on another week long trip. I hated it with a passion. I missed her terribly. We had a little routine we went through when we said goodbye. I am and always have been just a bit dramatic. I would grab her face - one hand on each cheek, stare deeply into her eyes, and say, "Promise me that you won't die. Promise me that you will come home safely to me." And, she would say, "I can't promise you that I won't die - that is in God's hands. But, I will do all that I can to return home to you safely." That answer never satisfied me because losing my mom was the worst thing imaginable to me - worse than nuclear war or an outbreak of smallpox.

My mom is an incredible woman, and I owe so much to her. She made growing up fun. She taught me that doing things for others is fulfilling. She taught me to enjoy homemaking. But, most importantly, she modeled daily for me selflessness and an unquenchable love for Jesus. And, for those two things I am so grateful to her. Thank you, mom.

When I was a senior in high school, we were asked to write a poem that would be entered in the state poetry contest. I decided to write a poem about my mom, and believe it or not, it won the state poetry contest. I'll never forget the day I had to accept my award. I was, you know, 18 years old and having a bad hair day. And, on top of that, I could not decide what to wear. To say the least, it was a stressful morning. My mom decided to throw in her two cents about what I should wear or do with my hair or something somewhat related, and I didn't appreciate the unasked for advice. So, I did something completely uncharacteristic of me, something my mother will never let me live down. . . I growled at her. Like a bear ready to attack, I growled at her and raised and my hand like a claw. I actually did this into the mirror in my bathroom, not to her face. But, when I heard her roar with laughter in the hallway, I realized that she had seen me.

I was not amused.

I can't remember if I stayed upset with her or not. But, the next thing that I remember from that day happened when I got on stage to accept my award. The announcer asked my mom to stand, handed me a copy of my poem, and asked me to read it aloud for the audience. But, to me it was an audience of one, and she was standing near the back of the room. I think we were both in tears by the time I finished reading my poem.

So, here's to the love between a mother and her children. Love that can withstand growling, whining, and outright disobedience. Fierce love, sweet love, secure love. . .

This is my little poem. I had to dig a bit to find it, but here it is. . .

I Call You Mother

I've felt your arms hold me up

when I was too weak to stand by myself,

I call you strength.

I've seen you're eyes shine

and your smile light up the dark,

I call you joy.

I've watched as Daddy looked at you

with eyes full of pride and affection,

I call you love.

I've heard your voice soothe my fears

and encourage me in love,

I call you hope.

I've felt your hand gently wipe away my tears

and calm my anxious body with a touch,

I call you precious.

I've confided in you knowing always

that your heart was open and listening,

I call you friend.

I've sat many a night in your lap

and cuddled my troubles away,

I call you security.

I've watched you smile lovingly

as your children grew up,

I call you proud.

I've watched you bow you're head in prayer

as walls fell all around you,

I call you faithful.

I've always loved you dearly

and am grateful to you for giving me life,

I call you Mother.

I love you, Mommy!!