Sunday is Mother's Day. I celebrate as I think about my own mom. There are so many reasons to be thankful to God that Donna is my mother. She has loved me through my best and worst. (And my worst has probably been the things young parents have nightmares about.)
Mom always assumed (and still assumes) the best of Laura and me. I could frame it as "Mom was so naive, she had no clue what we were up to or what we were capable of." The truth is, Mom's heart has always been soft and kind. So much so that she could never imagine us doing some of the ugly things we did because those things just simply weren't in her heart. I love Mom for the softness of her heart. Those who know her know how deeply caring she is for others. Getting a front-row seat to that kindness my entire life has molded how I view others.
Growing up, she loved my friends. Even to the ornery ones, she showed great care and concern. Being a home with just two daughters, I remember Mom and Dad's eyes popping when our guy friends would come over and eat. And eat. And eat. When you're a teen, there is something comforting about seeing your parents welcome in your friends and open their home to them.
Mom wants nothing more than to represent Jesus well. It's been a blessing to witness my own mom's walk with the Lord grow over the years, never wavering from Truth, yet allowing the Holy Spirit to work in her life and change and grow her. Seeing this in her has humbled ME and reminded me that my knowing God is ongoing.
I've witnessed her love and respect for Dad and her deep honor for her parents.
Thinking back, I'm focusing on things I "witnessed" and how I saw her react to things and people, not how she told me to act. (May that be an example and reminder to me that my kids are watching me!)
Now that I'm an adult and mom (times 3 and almost times 5), our relationship has changed into friendship. We talk on the phone every day about everything and nothing. She puts up with my yammering on like I know things she doesn't. She puts up with Laura and me and the grandkids teasing her to no end at times. She loves my husband like she loves her own flesh and blood and she loves loves loves The Brownies.
There is much more I could say, but I'll end with this. I remember, as teens, when we would head out the door with friends on a Friday night, Mom would say, "Remember who you are." We would roll our eyes and scoff, "Moooommm!"
I do remember. I'm Donna's daughter. And I'm thankful!