I remember when I was little, finding ways to stay close to my mother....physically close.  I wanted to be near her all the time... see what she was doing, feel her warmth, hear her voice.  I'd sit behind her on the bed as she typed on her typewriter, and play with her hair.  I'd lay at her feet while she worked at her desk.  I'd hold her hand whenever I could.

Every morning before school, we would sit down with my mom for devotions.  We'd read an Arch Book bible story and each pray.  All four of us kids learned to pray out loud that way... and I remember my mom's prayers... they'd always end with "and give me energy, strength, and joy"... 

As a young girl, I walked through the isles of antique stores and rummaged through boxes at auctions and garage sales.  She would tell me "This is a glazed china head.... these are Swanky Swigs from the 1950s... now $10 is a very reasonable price for that..... run your finger along the edge to see if it has any chips....

When I was in high school we'd go on walks... around the dark streets of our little town.  I'd talk to her...about everything.  I'd tell her about school, friends, and Jeremy.  She was my confidant, my encourager, my friend. 

I watched my mother as a pastor's wife.  I watched her be strong... I watched her show love.  Her small frame, her fuzzy hair, and smile are pieces of her unforgettable presence... But her open arms, ready to hug you, define her and identify her as an ambassador of Christ's love.

Now I watch her with my children. I watch her read to them...get down on floor and play with them... I watch her cuddle them... God continues to bless me with new memories and images of my dear mother that will remain with me always... 

Those millions of moments that she invested and continues to invest in me, have secured a permanent devotion for her in my heart.  She is my mother... and I love her.

1 comment:

  1. What a wonderful woman your mother is. She brings joy to me every time our paths cross. So thankful! Great post!


01 09 10 11 12
Blogging tips