As I begin to delve into a little blog series on childhood memories, I wanted to take this little opportunity to say happy birthday to my mother.
The woman who has embraced me, pursued me, let me go, and prayed for me ~ every day of my life.
I know she’s praying…
The faithful prayers of a woman
who isn’t just being polite when she says, “I’ll pray for you.”
I’ve come to recognize that for her,
that phrase isn’t the worn-out cliché I’m used to,
but the battle cry of a warrior.
I don’t take it for granted anymore.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p126~
One of the greatest gifts my mother has given me is her love of prayer.
She pursues it daily, in big and little ways.
You might not know she is seasoned in combat just by looking at her, but I know that she is a warrior ~ the Throne of Grace has been battered by her cries repeatedly, daily, continually… not the least cries of which, have been on my own behalf.
I have always wanted to be like my mom when I grew up. At the same time, like most adults, I am more like her in some ways than I thought I would be… and maybe even like her in some ways I wish I weren’t. But I was made partly in her image. I am half her. And I’ve learned to love and embrace that, with its vibrancy & its shadows.
I want to cook like she does. Paint like she can. Play with my grandkids like she does. I want a vibrant and militant prayer life like hers. I want to be passionate and unafraid like she is. I want to honor my husband and adore my offspring in the private & public ways like she does.
Happy Birthday, Mama… you are grand. xo