"Mom what is the line again?" I asked irritated. She fumbled through the script to find the precise line. It took her too long, I was already wallowing in self-doubt. My sixteen year old body fell to the floor. "I'm never going to get this. The Speech contest is tomorrow morning."
"Dianne, you can do this. Don't get upset, just try it again."
I would gather my strength and try it one more time. I would nail it. She would hug me and leave me to my boy band posters. I would forget about the time she had just spent with me. I wouldn't realize how that time would push dinner off a half hour and potentially put my three brothers and my dad on edge. No, instead I would look in the mirror dreaming of a new way of fixing my hair as I touched up my finger polish.
Moms do so much for us. I realize that now that I am one. This morning I will preach a sermon to the moms in Montezuma, Iowa on a mechanical lift as cars gather at the local high school parking lot. This is church in quarantine. It is windy and cold today. But I got up early to bake cinnamon rolls for the kids. In my mind I am carrying a dozen tasks as think of all the details it will take for us to get out the door successfully this morning. I know that my list is too grand and I can't possibly get it all done but I hope for a wonderful morning with my kids.
Time flies. The years with babies seem at the time to go slowly but if you blink too quickly you'll miss it. I remember the day we dropped Isaiah off at Kindergarten. I wanted to be strong. I didn't cry when I walked him to the little hook with a happy sign above it with his name printed clearly. When he met his teacher that morning and turned to me for one more hug I could feel a tear letting lose so I hurried out. How does that day now seem like yesterday as we prepare for his graduation?
In recent years as my three olders have become teenagers I have thought of my mom a million times. Sometimes I nod to myself, and say,"I get it now. Other times I call her crying, "Mom raising these kids is so hard, will you please pray for me?
Lately as I look in the mirror I see her face. I am the same age my mom was as she sat on the Waterbed helping me with lines. I realize now how much that time was a act of love. In my adult years I have been in many plays, I have sung many songs for many people, I have written songs and blogs, and traveled to foreign countries to share the love of God. But deep down I know that my courage comes from the love of a great mother.
This morning as I woke up I thought about this day. I thought about my children still asleep in their beds. I could feel the hope for them like the fragrant sweet smells coming from the oven as the cinnamon rolls turn golden. I have a hope that they will reach their dreams like I have. That they will embrace their faith and be able to see further than their wildest dream like I have. I dream that today they won't argue or pick at each other.
The reality is I may not see all these things happen with my own eyes. Just as my mother doesn't even know about the countless times a day I think of her. I thank God for her.
She had no formal training as a mom, do any of us? She just did her best and leaned out to her Savior as much as she could.
Her hair is white now. Sorry mom that might have been my doing. I haven't got to see her since this quarantine thing started, but the ones you love are always in the heart. Today I needed to pause and write my thoughts.
Thank you Mom for your tireless love for me and those wild Tullis boys. You played basketball and quoted Shakespeare. You made delicious meals and mended our cuts and bruises. You prayed with me and wiped my tears. Now I am doing the same for the next generation.
I love your beautiful face and your sweet prayers. I love the way you have always loved me.
For all Moms, today is a national holiday to acknowledge all that you do. The list is too long and the sacrifices too great to list. I pray that today you feel loved and cherished because you deserve it.
Thank you.
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