Let's Celebrate!

Perspective is such an amazing thing. You and I could both look at the same house and give a completely different description of it. How? One standing in the front, the other in the back. Same house. Different views.

And the thing is, we'd both be right.

Perspectives on life come from our experiences. These 'facts' we've come to know within ourselves. They shape our view of what's without.

Trying to explain to your kids why doing such-and-such is not good for them, why A, B and C will be the result if they continue on a certain path is often lost on these young(er) souls.

Why did God give us, the parents, the wisdom of experience, but pair us with children who don't have the slightest interest in taking advantage of it???   Exasperation!

Now my oldest children are marking their journey through the teen years (side-note: whoever coined the term 'terrible twos' must not have hit the 'terrible teens' yet, just sayin').   And the wonder and admiration I feel for my own mother grows with
                                        each
                                               passing
                                                           day.



Now I know...
      that even though she seemed 'so old' (right?) she was really just a young woman trying to figure it out.

 Like me. With each new decade of my life it's like I turn a new corner and a whole different view opens up. The things that really are absolutes solidify with each passing year.  And the things that I just thought were important are minimized, eventually fading into a faint memory of who I was.

I know now that my mama did the best she could with what she knew then.   And you know what?

 It was enough. Grace filled in the gaps.

Now I know...
      that nothing makes you ache like the pain of watching your children hurt. I'm sad for all the anguish I put her through. The sleepless nights filled with worry. Though I didn't believe it then, I know now her love ran true.

 I can see now that though I was unaware, her love was my anchor during my own turbulent 'terrible teens'.

Still her love leads on.

A lighthouse in the dark times.

A touchstone that keeps me grounded.

Now I know...
    the power of  the prayers of a faithful mother. How in her weakness she drew down strength from a heavenly source. For herself. For me. Prayers whispered in the night from my mama heard by the Father.

Who can measure the power of true prayer? Still I reap the far-reaching influence of her prayers. The ones prayed then.  The ones still prayed today.

So grateful am I....Spurred to pour out myself in prayer for my own children. Knowing that as I do

               they are being wrapped

                                        in the supernatural. 


Mother love is supernatural. Full of the self-sacrifice mirrored in the greatest Sacrifice. 


Mothers are lay-down lovers. And is there really any other kind? 


I'm thankful to have one.   Even more thankful to be one. 


Mother's Day is usually billed as a day for others to celebrate us. But really, we are the ones who should be celebrating. We are the ones who have been given the gift.

Because Motherhood is a gift.

Now go celebrate.