Good morning to everyone. Grace and Peace be with you.
Fifty-six years and ten months ago, God placed me in the arms of the most beautiful, the most enduring, the most resilient, and the most loving woman’s arms on planet Earth. In my opinion … but I am somewhat biased.
Born in the mid 1940’s, my mother was one of six kids. They were in that category of extreme poor. Pre-adolescent era, she and her siblings were removed by the state and placed in foster care. In foster care, she was the child that no one wanted. She was the child who bounced from facility to facility, from home to home. It was not until her mid-teens that she landed in an older couple’s home in Oxford until her coming to adulthood. I remember their house because it had a basement and a pool table. To me, they had the coolest house.
Her marriage to my dad, where difficult financially, was always full of love. She made sure of it. I was a bit of a letdown when I did not want to wear dresses, but she loved me with all she had … and still does. She was in a horrible car accident when I was but a small child. One so bad that my brother and I lived with our grandmother for a very long time. Financial hardships. Loss of jobs. Emotional distress from the financial issues. Generally, hard times trying to maintain the level of love that she wanted us kids to enjoy. A love and direction for well-rounded humans. She did that and so much more.
My mother, even after the divorce, did not speak ill of my father. She spoke in terms of disagreeing with his choices, but did not paint a negative picture. As I painted my own vision for her, about him in my teen years, she would correct me firmly. As I made questionable choices throughout my life, she has purposefully made sure to let me know her position … but in a very loving and yet motherly fashion. I honestly cannot remember her ever truly losing her grip with me. At least not to my face. I am sure the walls of her house could tell stories. Haha.
Today, we honor those who gave birth to us. We honor those who raised us. We honor the woman whom God delivered us into their arms … because of them … we are here. We are who we are. Through their faults and their strengths … we are the children God intended us to be … at least in part. Today, I say a hearty thank you to my mother. I pray daily that I have become half the mother to my children as she was to me. That would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Thank you, Mom.
Be blessed.
** As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you;
and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.” – Isaiah 66:13
Fifty-six years and ten months ago, God placed me in the arms of the most beautiful, the most enduring, the most resilient, and the most loving woman’s arms on planet Earth. In my opinion … but I am somewhat biased.
Born in the mid 1940’s, my mother was one of six kids. They were in that category of extreme poor. Pre-adolescent era, she and her siblings were removed by the state and placed in foster care. In foster care, she was the child that no one wanted. She was the child who bounced from facility to facility, from home to home. It was not until her mid-teens that she landed in an older couple’s home in Oxford until her coming to adulthood. I remember their house because it had a basement and a pool table. To me, they had the coolest house.
Her marriage to my dad, where difficult financially, was always full of love. She made sure of it. I was a bit of a letdown when I did not want to wear dresses, but she loved me with all she had … and still does. She was in a horrible car accident when I was but a small child. One so bad that my brother and I lived with our grandmother for a very long time. Financial hardships. Loss of jobs. Emotional distress from the financial issues. Generally, hard times trying to maintain the level of love that she wanted us kids to enjoy. A love and direction for well-rounded humans. She did that and so much more.
My mother, even after the divorce, did not speak ill of my father. She spoke in terms of disagreeing with his choices, but did not paint a negative picture. As I painted my own vision for her, about him in my teen years, she would correct me firmly. As I made questionable choices throughout my life, she has purposefully made sure to let me know her position … but in a very loving and yet motherly fashion. I honestly cannot remember her ever truly losing her grip with me. At least not to my face. I am sure the walls of her house could tell stories. Haha.
Today, we honor those who gave birth to us. We honor those who raised us. We honor the woman whom God delivered us into their arms … because of them … we are here. We are who we are. Through their faults and their strengths … we are the children God intended us to be … at least in part. Today, I say a hearty thank you to my mother. I pray daily that I have become half the mother to my children as she was to me. That would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Thank you, Mom.
Be blessed.
** As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you;
and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.” – Isaiah 66:13
Good morning to everyone. Grace and Peace be with you.
Fifty-six years and ten months ago, God placed me in the arms of the most beautiful, the most enduring, the most resilient, and the most loving woman’s arms on planet Earth. In my opinion … but I am somewhat biased.
Born in the mid 1940’s, my mother was one of six kids. They were in that category of extreme poor. Pre-adolescent era, she and her siblings were removed by the state and placed in foster care. In foster care, she was the child that no one wanted. She was the child who bounced from facility to facility, from home to home. It was not until her mid-teens that she landed in an older couple’s home in Oxford until her coming to adulthood. I remember their house because it had a basement and a pool table. To me, they had the coolest house.
Her marriage to my dad, where difficult financially, was always full of love. She made sure of it. I was a bit of a letdown when I did not want to wear dresses, but she loved me with all she had … and still does. She was in a horrible car accident when I was but a small child. One so bad that my brother and I lived with our grandmother for a very long time. Financial hardships. Loss of jobs. Emotional distress from the financial issues. Generally, hard times trying to maintain the level of love that she wanted us kids to enjoy. A love and direction for well-rounded humans. She did that and so much more.
My mother, even after the divorce, did not speak ill of my father. She spoke in terms of disagreeing with his choices, but did not paint a negative picture. As I painted my own vision for her, about him in my teen years, she would correct me firmly. As I made questionable choices throughout my life, she has purposefully made sure to let me know her position … but in a very loving and yet motherly fashion. I honestly cannot remember her ever truly losing her grip with me. At least not to my face. I am sure the walls of her house could tell stories. Haha.
Today, we honor those who gave birth to us. We honor those who raised us. We honor the woman whom God delivered us into their arms … because of them … we are here. We are who we are. Through their faults and their strengths … we are the children God intended us to be … at least in part. Today, I say a hearty thank you to my mother. I pray daily that I have become half the mother to my children as she was to me. That would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Thank you, Mom.
Be blessed.
** As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you;
and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.” – Isaiah 66:13
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