I have not yet become a mother, but I am confident that if someday the Lord chooses to bless me with a child I’ll be ready. Not because I can boast of my patience, or my loving nature. Nor because of my selflessness, or my incredible instincts. But because of the woman the Lord chose to be my mother.
My mother is my listening ear. My entire life, she has listened to me. She has listened as I’ve cried, and as I’ve laughed. She listened as I practiced for every talent show in elementary school, and as I’ve wailed over each failure in math class. As I grew, she listened to me rant over boys, and process my dreams, ever-changing as they are. She has listened to me chat aimlessly as I drive, and she has listened as I fumble through every trip to the grocery store. She has listened to me mourn, and celebrate.
My mother is loyal. I can honestly say I’ve never known another person to be as loyal as my mother. Thicker than blood she sticks by those who don’t always deserve her love, but still she gives it. I have seen her forgive, and encourage, and build up people who have hurt her. Even when she has been wronged time and time again, she is loyal. Not because she is weak or naive, but because she sees people for their heart, for who she knows they are, even if they can’t see it themselves.
My mother is a hard worker. Life has not always dealt us the simplest of hands, but my mother has worked every day through that. She has put in the long hours, and the manual labor. She has risen before the sun, and retired after nightfall. She has improvised with every setback, and has been willing to learn on-the-fly. She’s taken on odd jobs, and made every penny stretch so that my sister and I would never be without.
My mother is a dreamer. She dreams with her heart, big and bold. She sees potential (which is why our fixer-upper home will forever be undergoing new projects). She longs for sandy beaches in faraway places, and the desires of her soul are grand. There is a wild fire that burns within her for bigger and better things and it is my heart prayer that it would never be reduced to a smolder.
My mother and me, we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but God, do I love her. Our journey together has required work, and in more recent years, so much effort and striving to understand one another. There are so many things that make she and I so glaringly different, and that hurts us at times and it challenges us. But when I step back and take a good look, I can see we have the same heart. My mother is beautiful and imperfect, and she is all these things, and she has planted them in me. She has allowed me the space to learn and grow and become the woman I am, and she’s shown me how to be all the most important things; A listening ear. A loyal friend. A hard worker. A wild dreamer.
So thank you, Mom. For loving, for failing, for getting back up, and for teaching me to be the most important things. I love you, happy Mother’s Day.