This picture speaks to me:
It’s me with my mom, her mom and my sister.
For some reason it makes me want to tear up a little. To me it just spills out motherhood. She is there. I can’t even see the look on my her face, but I can tell from the side of her cheek that her smile is about as big as mine was.
And my Grandma up in that right corner…well from the looks of her cheek I think her face matches up with ours. And Saren? Well, she’s just being the mature care-taker mother-hen she’s always been:)
Max’s volleyball team watches video play-backs of the teams they’re going up against.
They watch past matches to figure out their game-plan so they can play better.
Oh how I long to have video play-backs like those boys do, but I want them to be my mom.
I want to study her moves so I can try to be just like her.
I want to see her on the day this picture was taken long ago when she gave me that doll. I wish I could see her at the store when she picked it out. I wonder if she deliberated about which doll to pick (like I would) or if she just marched right in and swooped that thing up. I wish I could be in her brain when she prayed and sought for the most impactful way to mother us. I want to watch her pack her fanny pack for trips. That fanny pack was like a magicians magical hat…she could pull practically anything from that baby. How did she know exactly what we needed?
I want to see how she managed chaos. I want to watch her read to us. I want to take notes of how she helped each of us in our own struggles. How did she find the time? How did she find the energy? She had nine kids for crying out loud.
And most of all, I want to re-live how she brought the spirit into our home. How, when she expressed her love of the Savior in our family testimony meetings and in random every-day life, the air became thicker. Her love helped mine grow in leaps and bounds. And I want to figure out how to bring that more fully into my own home.
But shucks, I don’t have a video play-back mode. I just have a handful of pictures like this one that make me yearn to be more like her.
To be more present.
To be more Christ-like.
To be more selfless.
I am forever grateful I am hers.
And she is mine.
And that even though I don’t have a video playback mode to learn from her early mothering, I have HER. And every time I’m with her I learn more about the right way to live life.
So each Mother’s Day I love to ponder how I can step up my game.
How I can strive to be more like her.
Which will ultimately help me be more like Him.
That One loving us and cheering us on in all that we do from above.
Love you mother dear. Happy mother’s day to the best of the best.
Mother’s Day helps me think about all those mothers out there, who, like her, are doing their best.
The one I overhear in the isle next to me at Target trying to make getting one more thing on her “to do” list done in a fun way for her bawling three-year-old.
The two strong ones I know who’s husbands passed away much too prematurely, who are trying to raise their children alone.
The ones who are dealing with abuse and heartache. The ones who are up all night with new babies or throwing up toddlers. The ones who are praying their guts out for their teenagers who can’t seem to find the right direction and the ones who actually iron clothes and who are funny and make life sing.
There are also the ones who’s hearts ache to be that mother they’ve always dreamed of being but they cannot for one reason or another, bear children themselves. I’m so grateful for their tremendous example of mothering all around them.
Happy Mother’s Day to you as you mother in your own unique best way.