This is How I Want to Celebrate Mother’s Day!

Last Updated on March 23, 2018

I was 27 years old.  The room was freshly painted.  The crib set up. Clothes neatly folded. Anticipation.  Waiting. Waiting.  She was late.  2 weeks late!  She finally came.  I was amazed as I stared at her newborn face.  The way her lashes laid on her cheeks when she slept.  Her wisps of thin blond hair lay lightly on her head.  I couldn’t hold her enough,  kiss her enough,  breathe enough of her in.  It was as if I were the only person in the world to have ever had a child. It was as if time stood still.  Everything stopped so I could stare at her.

She is now  almost 22 years old.  I am still amazed when I see her. When she sleeps… her lashes still lay on her cheeks the same way they did. I still see glimpses of that newborn.  Her blond hair frames her beautiful face.  The face of a young woman.  I still can’t get enough of her!  My child. My dearest girl friend, my sister in Christ.

I was 30 years old.  A different room was freshly painted.  The same crib set up.  Clothes neatly folded.  Anticipation. Waiting. Waiting. He was late. 2 weeks late! He finally came.  I was amazed as I stared at his  newborn face.  His big blue eyes matched mine.  Not much hair.  Those wonderful chubby cheeks!  I couldn’t hold him enough, kiss him enough, breathe enough of him in.  It was as if I were the only person in the world to have a son.  It was as if time stood still.  Everything stopped so I could stare at him!

He is now almost 19 years old.  I am still amazed when I see him.  Those blue eyes… I see me in them.  Those chubby cheeks are now the face of a  young man.  His shoulders are broad.  He towers over me.  I still can’t get enough of him! My son. My dearest son, my brother in Christ.

I have been given the privilege of being a mother.  I have not been perfect.  I wanted to be perfect,   but I haven’t been.  I have let them down, disappointed them, lost my cool, and failed them in many ways.  For mother’s day, I want to celebrate my children.  Those people who know me best, yet  have always forgiven me, loved me, and not held anything against me. They work hard at honoring me, even when I haven’t earned that privilege!

I celebrate THEM, and carry a heart full of gratitude that for some reason I have been given the gift of being a mom.

Look at your children today, hug them, breathe them in. They are your best gift this Mother’s Day.