Happy Mother's Day

I wrote this a couple of months ago, and I would like to share it in honor of Mother's Day. A gentle reminder to us all that the goal in motherhood is to point our children to their Heavenly Father. It's my hope that this would be the response my children have to me meeting with Jesus. Happy Mother's Day to you all. Thanks for checking in. I just reread this and feel like it's necessary to tell you that this is my HOPE! I do not get up and showered and meet with Jesus early every morning. I'm struggling to love my husband in a manner that pleases God and sometimes I am loud. The good news is that He is my hope, my light and my salvation. I pray that one day my children love Him, and that my humble attempt to bring them to the cross is honored by God. I just wanted to be clear...I'm in process! It does motivate me to get up!!!

I can still see her sitting there. The kitchen light was the only light other than God’s Word, that was open before her. I’d stumble out of bed in my little footie pajamas and her lap was the first place I’d go. She’d look up with an intense look, and then her face would soften as I walked toward her. She’d set her pen down and stretch out her arms to pull me to her. She was nice and warm, she smelled fresh from her shower and always her lotion. I remember watching her apply her lotion and noticing how soft she always was. No matter how angry, or how happy, she was always soft. She would move my hair from my face, kiss me in the perfect place on my cheek and ask me if I had good sleep. We’d sit for a while and then she’d either get me settled with breakfast or I would join my brother in the warmth of her covers for a little bit of what we called, “our shows.”

She would return to Him. I’m sure of it now, she longed for Him. It was so hard, I’m sure. Trying to teach us and train us according to the truths found in that Book, yet she did. She struggled, at best, somedays. There would be apologies, and tears, but always we’d pray. She would thank Him for me. She would thank Him for making me wonderfully and fearfully. She would ask that He would bless me and keep me and make His face shine on me. She would tell me that she loved me because I belonged to her, and that God loved us because we were adopted into His family by the forgiving and life-giving blood of Jesus Christ. She would sing and dance and always wanted to tell us stories. His stories. Stories of giants being slayed by heroes and terrible men who gave everything they had after God had changed their stone hearts into beating flesh. She got all of that from our little table, in our little house, from our great big God.

It’s how I knew I wanted a veil on my wedding day. She explained how Jesus lifted the veil that we might see Him in His glory. I wanted my unchurched friends that were attending my wedding to know who I loved first, only because He first loved me. I wanted them to know the grace and the glory of the Father of Heavenly lights. It’s how my brother knew He was called to serve abroad for some time. He told her when he was 5 years old that he didn’t love anything more than God, and that was true. He only knew Him, because she did, and she made sure that we did. It’s how my little sister knew to teach. She knew that without a doubt God had made her to tell others of the wonderful story that she had grown to love. It’s how we all knew to confess and ask for forgiveness when we’d done wrong. All from the time she spent getting to know Him. Talking to Him about us. It’s how she loved my Daddy so well. She knew that he was a gift from God and that she was to love Him in a manner that would honor the Giver of all good things. It’s how we all knew.

Her Bible was well worn. The date inside had almost worn away from the years, but we knew that January 16, 1997 was the day that He found her, the day she found her way to Him. She had marked and highlighted, loved that Bible because of the very Words of life that came forth from it. She passed those Words on to me, and here I sit, my light and my Light in my little house, at my little table with my great big God all because I saw her, sitting there.