Mom Understood The Assignment

How many of our memories are tied to the first or last time we experience something meaningful in our lives? Sometimes we make a conscience decision to remember. Sometimes it just happens naturally. We instinctively remember events like our first kiss, or our first date, There are a few memorable moments we can’t remember, though, like our first steps or our first words. Our mothers almost certainly do. It is different with our lasts, however. We don’t usually have real-time knowledge we are experiencing something for the last time.

 

I don’t remember the first time I heard my mom’s voice, of course, but I do remember the last. I was sitting in my hospital bed, and she called to wish me a happy birthday. The last thing she told me every time we spoke was, “I love you and I am so proud of you.” Little did I know that would be the last time we talked. Later that evening she fell and suffered a fatal blow to her head. I will never hear her sweet voice again, but I have learned something very valuable from her in the months since her death that I think is important for all of us to hear.

 

Over the last few months, I have lovingly replayed each memory I have of her. She gave me a lifetime full of blessings and valuable life lessons. For instance, even though she experienced adversity and challenges throughout her 85 years, she had developed the ability to laugh at her own mistakes and move on. I learned the beauty of unconditional love from her by watching her love my dad as deeply as any person can possibly love another. She had the gift of making everyone feel seen and appreciated in the way she interacted with the them on a daily basis.

 

My mom understood the assignment. It is an important part of the legacy she has passed down. She was not a great orator, celebrated musician or best-selling author. She was an average woman from a small town in the Oklahoma Panhandle who served her husband, her children and her church well. As amazing as was, she was not perfect. She made mistakes, but she did not let them define who she was.

Personally, I have lost count of the times I have scrutinized my parenting skills and longed to go back and say or do something differently. Our kids are amazing, but I often think it is in spite of me and not because of me. Unfortunately, I have been defining myself by my own perceived failures and shortcomings. But God did not call me to be perfect. He called me to be faithful.

 

Ladies, that means we don’t have to be a perfect mom to be a good mom. We don’t have to be a perfect wife to be a good wife.

We are to love the people God places in our lives with all our heart, soul, and mind. If that means changing a million diapers, then we are to glorify God while we change each one. If that means loving that one angry person who stomps on our last nerve, then we are to love them as He loves them. 

 

My kids are adults now with kids of their own. As they look back on their childhood, I hope my mistakes highlight God’s grace and power in a way perfection never could. I hope they see how God used my shortcomings for His glory. I hope they see that success is not a matter of doing or saying everything flawlessly but of being a faithful servant. I hope they are able to look past my failures and know they are loved unconditionally…from all our “firsts” through to all our “lasts”.