I thought it would be appropriate to write a post in honor of the mothers in my life.
Looking back on my childhood of course I can think of my own mother; the woman who gave me life and brought me into this world. She has sacrificed so much for me as well as my other siblings both biological and step siblings.
She has helped to instill in me a proper work ethic, resiliency, moral fiber, and character. She has shown me the importance of a relationship with God.
As an adult she has taught me selflessness and the increasing importance of family.
I also look back into my childhood and remember my great grandmother. A small woman that was full of understanding. Wrinkled arthritic hands with an eternally temperate heart with and endless supply of warm hugs, and molasses cookies.
Next is my grandmother. Charles Stanley on the TV and Chuck Swindol on the radio. The candy jar on the ledge of the window between the kitchen and front room. The telling of tales and reading books at bedtime. The smell of the heater in the pop-up camper and getting splattered with bacon grease as she cooked eggs for breakfast.
The last influential mother in my life is the mother of my two girls. She’s no mother to me; in no way a substitute. She is her own woman. And. She exhibits so many of the qualities of the other mother’s in my life. She helps me point our girls toward God. She helps me exhibit character, moral fiber, and a proper work ethic. She helps me demonstrate compassion and selflessness. She helps me and our girls know that we are loved.
She is not my mother; she is her own woman; she is my wife.