Motherhood

I've been thinking about motherhood a lot these past few days.  My mom's birthday was on Saturday, and her example to me was floating in and out of my mind all day.  Thursday night, as I roasted tomatoes and onions for salsa, I thought about how she taught me to love salsa from day one and make salsa years later.  Now it's my favorite thing to make.

I thought about how she taught me to be kind to those around me.  Often when I tell stories about my life, she focuses on the people.  There have been several stories where she stops me in my tracks, as I ponder how someone else felt.  When I am thinking of only one person (most often myself), she sees the story for all the facets.  When I was sad about my team losing, she replied, maybe the winning team was McFarland.

As I write papers, I think about how she continually and repeatedly teaches me to calm down on the commas.  I try to make my sentences more concise and clarify any confusion, for her sake and mine as we try to edit the paper long distantly.

I think about her every time I do my statistic reading.  I know that there are programs for what I'm learning, so my mom and I don't use the same methods, but it makes me happy to know that we speak  the same language, at a fundamental level.

I thought about how she can make any space sacred, even a kitchen counter in a rental house over sub sandwiches.

Every time I have a dream that seems staggeringly large, I think about my mom.  I think about how she pushed herself.  How she trusts God's timing.  How she waits on the Lord to show her what she needs to do.  One of my favorite stories about me that I've heard from my mom is when she decided to treat me like I was her last baby.  I am grateful for a mom who listens to the Spirit, and especially grateful I have a mom who devoted her time to me.

A little less than a year ago (as in a week), my mom showed me one of the greatest acts of motherhood I've seen.  It was the day of the State tournament.  I had just found out that I had been undefeated in prelims.  I slipped away from my coach and teammates.  I walked out of the crowded cafeteria and stuffy high school halls to a door, where I dialed the phone.  My mom picked up, and I started crying.  She panicked, thinking I was reporting bad news, and instead I got to tell her I had won.  Through my tears, I somehow told her that I was the only person to be 5-0.  And she told me it was an answer to so many prayers.

A little less than two years ago (as in a week), I called my mom, already crying.  I called her to tell her I had gone 1-4 in prelims.  And she cried with me.  And she comforted me.

And that act, shows who my mom is.  My mom is someone who will be there for all the range of tears.  She will pray for you all day and all night if necessary.  She will turn her worries over to God and trust Him with all her heart, because she loves Him and knows that He will provide.  She will be there to cheer you on and protect you.

And I am beyond grateful to have this beautiful lady in my life.  To have a mom who will cry thousands of tears with me and will discuss all things pertaining to anything.

I love you Mom.  Thank you for it all.

xo. Elise