My moma is really awesome.
Ok, so to tell the real story here. My moma has been there for me so many times. And I haven't always been that grateful. She was there when I came home from a mission trip with a concussion and didn't get out of bed for five days and didn't get completely well for five or six months. She was there during my first months of living on my own when I called her with silly cooking questions. She was there when I had a meltdown at a UGA football game and she missed a whole half of the game. I remember asking her why she was doing that. It wasn't fair I told her. She was missing the game. I didn't understand. Why was I worthy of her attention? She told me "Baby, I am a mother." Such simple words. They weren't bitter. They weren't forced. They just flowed. It wasn't that she was excited to take care of me during those times. I am sure she had more fun things to be doing. However, I think I will always remember those words. I sit here about to tear up thinking about it. She loved me. And that's what people did who loved each other. They sacrificed things to serve others. It was such a sobering thought. I know that one day should the Lord bless me with children myself then I will be in the same situation. My babies will need help and I will do it because I love them. At nearly twenty, I am still a baby in many ways in need of a lot of help from my mother.
So I want to end with some skills that my moma is really good at:
- finding things in my room that I have lost
- cooking things in a crock pot
- baking casseroles
- making sure I don't settle for a halfway job
- telling me I am beautiful and worthy of love
- making me feel like its okay to live outside the box
- reminding me that Jesus has it all worked out in the end when I come to her in tears about whatever is going on.
- teaching and dealing with kids with Special Needs <3
- a lot more
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| Going to the 3D Narnia movie - she doesnt get embarrassed when I do crazy things in public.. |
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