I’m a horrible gift giver. Definitely not my love language. I’ve been trying to think of a gift for my mom this Mother’s Day that could express 30 years of gratefulness. When I was a kid on Mother’s Day, I would go the magical closet at the end of our hallway and pick out something “real nice”. The closet was overstuffed with unfinished craft projects, outdated decor, and meaningless memorabilia; a gold mine in the eyes of an 8 year old. Or I would make my mom a coupon book full of promises of housework and things I never did fulfill. This year, I’m giving my mom the gift of words. I promise, I’m not being cheap. I just can’t think of one material thing that could say all that’s in my heart, so here goes:
It’s always good to keep a dream in your heart and fight for the will to follow it. The most peculiar thing happened when I became a mom. Most of the rest of my dreaming and even my definition of success became instantly bundled in a pink and blue-striped, hospital swaddling blanket. My days would be spent encouraging this baby girl (and her sister and brother to follow) to dream big dreams, all the while knowing I would be the one to put “feet” to them…to be a SERVANT of all she longed to accomplish.
My mom stood by my hospital bed that day, and participated in that moment…that moment where I realized SHE was the servant of all my dreams. I realized who I am and all that I’ve done wouldn’t have been possible without her putting feet to all I wanted to accomplish.
So, thank you, Mom, for SERVING my dreams when….
…I said I wanted to be a preacher because there didn’t seem to be too many lady preachers around.
…You were the only one to sponsor me in the Spell-A-Thon because I was too shy & lazy to ask for other sponsors.
…You drove me to countless clogging lessons and performances, and spent countless dollars on poofy dresses and noisy shoes.
…You video taped all my basketball games, and even got kicked out of that one game for yelling at the referee when I was in 7th grade.
…We would stop by the local grocery store when I would suggest EVERY DAY that we needed a gallon of milk (when we both knew it was to see my sweetheart/future hubby who worked there).
…You dropped me off at a missionary training school in the not-so-safe part of Mexico, and trusted God to protect me, grow me, and show me His plans for my life.
…You watched me walk down the aisle at my high school graduation, college graduation, and when I married the man of my dreams.
…You faced the biggest storms of your life with such courage and strength that I hardly knew you were shaken.
…You stood by my bedside and celebrated with me as my 3 little dreams were born.
And, thank you, Mom, that you continue to stand by and serve my BIGGEST dream, that I just might be a mom (and one day, a grandma) as selfless, strong, and supportive as you are.