My thought are turned to my mother this weekend. I could write (and write) my gratitude for all the things she has done for me and for my children. Instead though, I am thinking about who she is.
First, my mother is a person who loves. Fiercely. Completely. She loves her children to the point that she thinks they can do anything and she gets particularly irritated when anyone (especially her children) doubt that. She loves her children and their spouses and her grandchildren to the point that none of them could ever wonder how she really feels. She loves to the point that her rotten children roll their eyes and tease her when she lectures but they all know that everything she says and does comes from a place of love.
It is comforting in the world to know that someone loves you that much.
My mother is also faithful. In my mind, the word defines her. She is faithful in the loyal and trustworthy sense. She can be depended on. Absolutely.
She is also filled with faith. I cannot count the times when I have faltered and turned to her as my anchor. Just the other day when I was spinning my own little web of panic over the phone in a conversation with her, she reminded me. She always says, "Now Thelma..." and gently prompts me to recall what she knows and what I know. Because my mom taught me, I know I have a purpose in life. I know that I have a Father in Heaven who loves me and is mindful of me.
Everything important that I know is something my mom taught me.
Happy Mother's Day! (And I'm sorry about all the times your rotten children have rolled their eyes and teased you...not me, I would never do that. I mean those other guys.)