Days like this cause me to eagerly look forward to Christmastime. She'll have the house warm and scented, the fridge and freezer full of fabulous food, and a well orchestrated plan - albeit less than fully disclosed - for everyone to enjoy proper amounts of both quality time and quantity treats. And don't forget the "Happy Birthday, Jesus!" cake: the five layer homemade carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. (the more layers, the more frosting!) My kids talk about this delightfully commemorative confection year round.
If you've only read Chapman's books on the five love languages, you'll not have heard of Mom's special love language. Though she speaks the languages they mention, her true language of love is food, I believe. She expresses herself. She sacrifices. She premeditates. She provides. She celebrates. She finds joy in the sharing of food.
When she was the pastor's wife to over forty deacons, each of those families received a beautiful platter of homemade candies for Christmas. A few years later, when I made plans to stay out all night after high school graduation (PLEASE don't mention this to my children) she invited my friends over for a formal breakfast the following morning. In hindsight, perhaps it was her way of ensuring that we'd keep our wits about us if we had a 7am roll call. Nonetheless, she spared no effort or thought. Lace table cloth, her wedding china and stemware - complete with butter dish and gravy boat. I remember looking across the table at my severely fatigued classmates - all of us trying our best to sit up straight in our day-old flannel plaid garb - and thinking, "THIS must be what it means to be honored."
Outside the kitchen, the most natural room for my mom to shine is her piano studio. In an instant I can imagine her thumbing through a student's notebook, checking things off, while simultaneously snapping to a 3/4 rhythm and admonishing the pianist to staaaayy with-the beat! All her students love her. Her lessons shower them with gifts of encouragement, discipline, compassion & patience.
I struggled for many years, as you might assume, to see Mom's giftedness for the treasure that it is. I was too busy being annoyed and impatient, disrespectful and tart. Understandably, she secured "other" avenues for me to receive music education. But apparently, during my sweeter, pre-adolescent years, she found the grace to give me a solid foundation. I am still reaping the harvest from those seeds.
My mom was really ahead of her time in terms of home management. Almost every month, I will read about some "fresh, new" approach to parenting, organization, or family fun. After finishing the article, I say out loud, "Whatever. My mom was doing that 30 years ago." I have five, hand upholstered, eyelet trimmed, three-inch binders that chronicle the first eighteen years of my life. Photos, school papers, awards, if it happened, it's in there. Did she have any idea that "scrap-booking" would explode into a kazillion dollar industry? I'm old, people! She TYPED all the captions on a typewriter, then snipped them and matted them on pretty stationery.
And those "Bridge Books" you can buy at books-a-million that provide summer workbooks to transition your child from one grade to the next? Dunnit. My mom would save papers from each six weeks. Then at the end of each term, she would use those worksheets to create a notebook of summer assignments for each of us. As a result, we would retrace our steps from beginning to end of the subjects we had recently mastered. I would think to myself, "These sound like the word problems Mrs. So-in-so gave us last fall....Hey! These are those silly poems we just learned about at Easter." We could play with our friends "only when our daily page was complete." What a wise mom.
Here is the most amazing thing about my mom. Check out her kids. I'm not kidding! This is not some vain attempt to talk about how great we are. You want to know if a mom is great at what she does? Look at the fruit. ALL of her kids are handsome, charming, and love to learn. All of her kids find incredible joy in worshipping the One True God. All of her kids who are married, happily chose spouses who share that same purpose and pleasure. All of her kids who have children of their own, are actively raising them to do the same. (Sorry, JW, but you're not giving me a lot to work with...Jesus loves you, man...hang in there!)
Mother's passion for parenting has blossomed into a bouquet of blessings. No matter what happened on each and every single day. No matter what mistakes she may have made. No matter how things deviated from what she might have planned. The harvest of her mothering efforts is rich and plentiful. Her granddaughters long to be Godly Grammy's. She has gently made her mark on the generations to come. Praise God from whom all blessings flow!
Outstanding, admirable, and OLD...I think that's the main idea here, today. Ardyn and I found a card for mom this week. It said, "You're HOW old?...well try to have a good day anyway." Obviously we selected a sweeter card to actually put in the mail. I think I actually have more gray hair than mom...so she knows I'm just pickin'. She is by all accounts aging beautifully and gracefully.
Thank You, God for giving me my mom. You did Good!
