Mother's Day

It happened about two months ago when I saw an announcement in our church’s bulletin. Oddly, I had asked Ed about that very thing earlier in the week: did the church do baby dedications? He said he would find out, but according to the bulletin, the answer was yes. They were having one on May 10^th – Mother’s Day. That’s when I realized that I would be a mother on Mother’s Day. And I cried.

There have been many women whose paths cross mine and whom I admire for one reason or another, but two have always stood out to me. First, my own mother. Not a year goes by when my admiration of her doesn’t grow. Especially now as I care for my own little girl, I wonder more and more how she did it. How did she raise eight children?

Just one little infant can be exhausting some days! How did she move from house to house to house and never have a place to call her own? She owned things I didn’t know existed until I was eleven years old and she finally decided she would unpack all our boxes just to see belongings she hadn’t seen in years. (And would pack again in three years to move yet again…) How did she juggle schooling, and sports, and sewing our clothes, and extra activities without ever seeming to drop a ball? Emry doesn’t have any of those things yet and already I remind myself ten times of her doctor’s appointment just so I won’t forget!

And then there is Allyson. I admired Allyson before she became a wife and mother and my respect for her has grown in the past twelve years since she married Kevin and now has seven children ages eleven down to one. Being a frequent guest at her house, I have watched her handle her children with grace and patience. The house they bought when they married has shrunk considerably with the arrival of each new child, yet I’ve never seen Allyson loose her temper as she trips over a school book or computer Kevin is working on. (Praise God they have finally been able to sell that house and will soon move to a larger one – an answered prayer I have seen Allyson despair over at times.) And she didn’t pause a moment to pack all seven kids in their van last summer to drive to Pennsylvania to be at my wedding. And not only be there, but she and Kevin sang and her three girls were my flower girls. I was honored and humbled.

And that is why I cried that Sunday at church as I contemplated the fact that today I am actually a mother celebrating Mother’s Day. Because I never thought I would be. Not at my age. Not after decades of aching hope. And to join a group of women so much greater than myself…well, I certainly haven’t done anything to earn such a place. In fact, I know how far short I fall from that title – more so now that I am a mother. Yet, by God’s grace, I am what I am. And, by God’s grace, I will set my feet to walk in the path of those great women before me. For Emry’s sake, I hope I succeed. At least a little.

Happy Mother’s Day.