Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Is it possible I'm becoming my mother?

Grandmommy on one of her weeknight visits

It was bound to happen at some point? I am the only daughter in my family, so I've known at some point in my life, I would be faced with the reality of actually becoming my mother. People say this in jest, sometimes with a feigned gasp of disbelief. "No, not me!" "No way, I definitely am not turning into my mother!" Personally, I may joke around and pretend like I am terrified to embody my mother, but in reality, I am praying it happens for me.

Have you met my mom? She's great. She's so fun to be around. She has a great personality, and she loves being busy and helping others. But... have you been served by my mom? Have you directly experienced her service to her family, friends, or another human being or organization? No? Let me tell you all about it.

My mom is an AMAZING mom. She loves her family. The love language she GIVES the most is acts of service. She is perfect at showing love in this way. She is perfect at it because it comes so naturally to her to serve others. Serving her family means she always keeps a clean home, she cooks homemade meals, and she provides the comforts of home no matter where we find ourselves. She never sits down to relax. (This is most true on Thanksgiving day! Where does the energy come from??)

I have been more thankful and more blessed by this now that I am a new mom myself. I was thankful for her service to us before, but I crave it now that I am in this new life stage. When Wyatt was born, Mark and I stayed in the hospital together, never leaving, while all four of our parents stayed at our house, crashing after spending all day with us at the hospital. As our time in the hospital wrapped up, 3 out of the 4 grandparents had to return back to their daily lives. But Mom led us 3 peas back to our little pod, like the matriarch that she is. 

We walked in to a house so deeply cleaned, you could smell the freshness. Every sheet in the house was washed, every dish put away, every inch of our fridge was stocked full of food. She never mentioned it, but we knew. We knew how much effort she had put in, we knew how much time she put into serving us in this way. We knew she spent a lot of money on groceries for us so that we wouldn't have to worry about what we would do meal to meal. She knew what we needed before we even knew ourselves.

Since that sweet homecoming, my mom has found her way back to us. She lives 90 miles south of us, but still comes about every other week for Wednesday's Survivor night, then keeps our little man during the day on Thursdays. She gives up that time at her own home, her own sanctuary, to come to our little pod, dirtied from her last visit, just to do it all over again. She serves us without batting an eye. She never gets irritated that we have junk everywhere after she put it all away last time. She never says a word if the towels she washed during her last visit are still on the chair where she left them for us to put away. 

My mother has a servant's heart. She lives out Ephesians 6:7 - "Rendering service with a good will, as to the Lord and not to man." She is working for our family because she knows the Lord has blessed her with each of us, and this is how she shows him and us that she loves are cares for that gift. 

Am I becoming my mother? I pray that I am, I pray that I can serve my family, friends and people I come into contact with in my daily life even in a fraction of the way that she does. I'd be most proud to become my mom.

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