On Mother’s Day–Thanking Father God

Husband in the Firetruck, Son Aaron behind him DIL Courtney in front, daughter Leah on right first grandson Hanan (now 22)

Daughter Leah practicing her mad chef skills

Mother’s Day morning and I’m in church, hands raised and worshipping. My brothers are visiting and I marvel at the miracle of this trio. There’s no reason we should be in church. We did not grow up knowing anything about Jesus; our childhood church attendance was sporadic at best.  We had alcoholic parents (gone now), absent fathers (more than one), and truth be told, we pretty much raised ourselves. 
As the oldest of five children, I was often the mom in many cases for my four other siblings: it seemed like my parents were out often, there was no dad around and my mom was working most of the time.
My mother did the best she could but I didn’t learn any mothering skills from example or input or nurturing; I came by childrearing by the grace of God and the skin of my teeth.
It’s clear that on the other side of my mothering journey it was the grace of God that carried me through the birth and raising of my children to today where they are grown-ups with children of their own. 

I did SO MANY things wrong when my son and daughter were young. I did not want to be the fun mom that played with them; I was too wrapped up in my own angst and lostness and honestly, quite selfish. (Yes, I knew Jesus, I just didn’t know how much He loved ME.) 
I stumbled my way through discipline, birthday parties and Sunday School.  Through parent conferences and temper tantrums, through perms and soccer games, late night school projects, boy/girl problems ad infinitum….and then boom!

My son and daughter each were grown and married. Amazing thing, though, in spite of the horrible missteps in my past as their mom?

They still love Jesus. And they like me. They talk to me. On purpose. 

And I know what a gift this is.
My son and daughter both amaze me with their tender hearts, their talents, with their humor and their gifts. 
My son has my mother’s musical ear and loves to sing and worship. I remind him of that often and marvel at his piano playing ability.
My daughter is a technical wizard and artist.  She got that from her dad. She also loves to be in the kitchen and pursued a degree in Culinary Arts.  That aptitude came from God, not me.

What did my kids get from me?  An honest walk with my Jesus, watching me fall on my face and into His arms, listening to me apologize when I’ve hurt them. They heard my angry words with their father and saw us reconcile (often).

They’ve also heard me break into song in the middle of the grocery store and sung right along with me.  We’ve jumped on trampolines together, danced in the living room to Johnny Mathis songs and they’ve listened to my corny jokes.

Best of all? We’ve worshipped in church together over the years as they’ve grown.  They have sought after God and had their own miracles in the middle of their hard times and difficulties, a testimony, not to me but to the God to whom I pointed.

The God who redeems all things.

This is the best of Mother’s Day gifts.

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Post edited May 2025