I have always admired my mother.
Perhaps it's her feminine grace and pose. Even with small children, she always kept her nails clean and painted, and I can't remember a day when she didn't sit at her vanity and apply a modest amount of makeup. She has made exercise a habit for as long as I can remember, and has been rewarded with a slim figure that most women her age read about in magazines. Despite our family's meager income, her clothes are bright, ironed, and usually decorated with a small broach or stone necklace. She puts on a smile for everyone even when she is tired or frustrated, and I have always been amazed at her gracious ability to host guests and make them feel comfortable no matter what her day has looked like. Purposeful yet gentle questions such as, "Tell me about your day" and "How are your studies going?" make the receiver feel cared for and important as their answer is absorbed with an encouraging smile and nod.
Perhaps it's her sense of adventure. Most people assume that her quiet personality lends itself to homebodiedness, but they couldn't be more wrong. When Mom was 26 years old she flew to Papua New Guinea as a missionary school teacher. She stayed for 2 years without returning home. While there, she partook in all kinds of tribal traditions, ate primal food, learned Pidgin English, and rode on motorcycles (though I can hardly imagine it). She was planning to continue her education in England when she and Dad decided to get married. I'm happy that they got married, obviously, but her unfinished adventures have left me craving travel. She and I are planning to go to Italy at the nearest possible time.
Perhaps it's her meekness. For years I misunderstood the definition of this word to share meanings with shy, timid, and scared, but have since decided that just the opposite is the case. Mom has enough fire and determination in her to compensate for the entirety of a room, but reigns it in with purpose. She can listen quietly without interrupting, although an onlooker might notice the myriad of thoughts behind her eyes. Don't be mistaken--she will definitely voice her thoughts in due time, and with due passion, but her self-control causes the passion to fit perfectly into the definition of meekness, which is "power under control."
Perhaps it's her devotion to Christ and pursuit of a closer walk with Him. Every morning she sits in the living room with a cup of tea and reads the Scriptures, praying for wisdom to be a better wife and mother. Although she didn't become a Christian until her college years, her faith is outstanding. Twelve years ago, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and predicted not to live long. On top of surviving the surgery, she insisted on a shortened dose of chemotherapy, and has been cancer free since 1997. When I asked her if she was scared during the process, she responded that although she had always worried for her family's safety and well-being, she realized that only God could care for them perfectly and therefore determined to release them into His hands. "After all," she admitted, "if I die, what good then would my worrying do? He is sovereign and trustworthy." Thankfully, He spared her life (which is wonderful for many reasons, although one minor point is that my dad's cooking ability is limited to box pancakes). In the months following her surgery, she lost all of her hair and had to wear a wig, which was borne with the utmost pride and confidence. Apparently most people never guessed it was fake... until Dad would happily follow their comments with, "And isn't she beautiful? Never would've guessed it was a wig, wouldya?!"
Although these are things I love about Mom, I think the main reason I admire her is because she's my mom. Whenever I get the chance I borrow her jewelry, put on her apron (like right now), mimic her handwriting (which is exquisite), use her lotion, and cuddle in her bed.
She doesn't often express her feelings in words, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves me and my brother unconditionally with fervor and devotion. Her quiet strength is something I will aspire to always.
P.S.- She also makes a mean sweet tea.
Perhaps it's her feminine grace and pose. Even with small children, she always kept her nails clean and painted, and I can't remember a day when she didn't sit at her vanity and apply a modest amount of makeup. She has made exercise a habit for as long as I can remember, and has been rewarded with a slim figure that most women her age read about in magazines. Despite our family's meager income, her clothes are bright, ironed, and usually decorated with a small broach or stone necklace. She puts on a smile for everyone even when she is tired or frustrated, and I have always been amazed at her gracious ability to host guests and make them feel comfortable no matter what her day has looked like. Purposeful yet gentle questions such as, "Tell me about your day" and "How are your studies going?" make the receiver feel cared for and important as their answer is absorbed with an encouraging smile and nod.
Perhaps it's her sense of adventure. Most people assume that her quiet personality lends itself to homebodiedness, but they couldn't be more wrong. When Mom was 26 years old she flew to Papua New Guinea as a missionary school teacher. She stayed for 2 years without returning home. While there, she partook in all kinds of tribal traditions, ate primal food, learned Pidgin English, and rode on motorcycles (though I can hardly imagine it). She was planning to continue her education in England when she and Dad decided to get married. I'm happy that they got married, obviously, but her unfinished adventures have left me craving travel. She and I are planning to go to Italy at the nearest possible time.
Perhaps it's her meekness. For years I misunderstood the definition of this word to share meanings with shy, timid, and scared, but have since decided that just the opposite is the case. Mom has enough fire and determination in her to compensate for the entirety of a room, but reigns it in with purpose. She can listen quietly without interrupting, although an onlooker might notice the myriad of thoughts behind her eyes. Don't be mistaken--she will definitely voice her thoughts in due time, and with due passion, but her self-control causes the passion to fit perfectly into the definition of meekness, which is "power under control."
Perhaps it's her devotion to Christ and pursuit of a closer walk with Him. Every morning she sits in the living room with a cup of tea and reads the Scriptures, praying for wisdom to be a better wife and mother. Although she didn't become a Christian until her college years, her faith is outstanding. Twelve years ago, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and predicted not to live long. On top of surviving the surgery, she insisted on a shortened dose of chemotherapy, and has been cancer free since 1997. When I asked her if she was scared during the process, she responded that although she had always worried for her family's safety and well-being, she realized that only God could care for them perfectly and therefore determined to release them into His hands. "After all," she admitted, "if I die, what good then would my worrying do? He is sovereign and trustworthy." Thankfully, He spared her life (which is wonderful for many reasons, although one minor point is that my dad's cooking ability is limited to box pancakes). In the months following her surgery, she lost all of her hair and had to wear a wig, which was borne with the utmost pride and confidence. Apparently most people never guessed it was fake... until Dad would happily follow their comments with, "And isn't she beautiful? Never would've guessed it was a wig, wouldya?!"
Although these are things I love about Mom, I think the main reason I admire her is because she's my mom. Whenever I get the chance I borrow her jewelry, put on her apron (like right now), mimic her handwriting (which is exquisite), use her lotion, and cuddle in her bed.
She doesn't often express her feelings in words, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves me and my brother unconditionally with fervor and devotion. Her quiet strength is something I will aspire to always.
P.S.- She also makes a mean sweet tea.
I want to say, "My Mom could beat up your Mom" because it would be sort of funny and it would subtly get the point across that my Mom is awesome, but I don't think that the comment would go along with your theme in this post.
This was sweet. And I hope your Mom has read it.
That is beautiful. I love my mom. And I totally know how it feels to wear her jewelery and mimic her handwriting and lay in her bed. You are such a great writer.