How do you write just a few paragraphs about a woman who inspires so much strength and wisdom? I have to admit this is a bit of a daunting task; I could write an entire book on how wonderful my mom is. But since this is a blog and not a novel, I’ll attemp to keep it short.
My mother is truly patient. Not just in terms of waiting but in terms of being slow to anger and quick to love (this is one of many ways she is a reflection of the God who made her). A light-hearted example of this is one of the many times we (we being me, my sisters, and who ever else happened to be at our house on any given night) were up late while my mom was in bed trying to sleep. We would be laughing heartily from some joke or game or mischief that surrounded us, and suddenly and silently the “creature from the blue lagoon” would poke her head from around the corner with a big smile trying to feign seriousness to tell us we had to quiet down so she could sleep. Of course this sent us all into a fit of laughter–we were adults at this point mind you, not 6 year olds!–and my mom would spend a few more minutes entertaining us with her half-awake, half-asleep attempt at seriousness before returning back to bed. We would of course try to be quiet, which usually led us outside where some new mischief awaited. But I digress.
I can never remember a time when my mom insulted me. Sure she made me mad just as any mother does to her daughter, but even when she would have been honestly justified to hurl an insult or slander, she never did. She rarely insulted anyone for that matter, but the love she has for her daughters triumphed over any anger she ever had with us, and she was always kind even when angry.
My mom is also incredibly strong. She has suffered physically for years with all kinds of things (the woman was allergic to gluten before “gluten-free” was cool) yet she always has a joy that comes from something much deeper than her physical nature. She roots her joy in her relationship with God, and this transcends physical, relational, emotional traumas that she has known. That is not to say that those pains aren’t real, but her joy remains in spite of those. This joy is also incredibly contageous.
Wisdom is another characteristic of my mom. I can call my mom with all kinds of issues, and she always has something to say to help me think differently or more deeply about the topic at hand. She offers her wisdom generously to others as well, and many a person have found some morsel from her to be helpful.
I alluded earlier to the fact that we often had friends over. My mom is sooo hospitable. Not in the frilly Martha Stewart sense of hospitality but in the sense that her home is always open to whoever happens to be near by, and she will make you feel not like a guest but like you belong in that house.
And of course I inherited more than a few good things from my mother. She is very creative, and she is the one who originally taught me to sew. I still call her with questions every now and then to figure out how to do something. She also makes great food!
Now before I turn this into a novel, I would just like to say once again, Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!