I dedicate this post to my mother, who is truly the best. She is strong, patient, merciful, and passionate to a fault. She is incredibly beautiful, incredibly selfless and continually growing more comfortable in her own skin. She’s a true Love Warrior and my life counselor. She’s at least eight people’s hero. Oh, and she cooks good, too.
I eat chicken breasts when we have dinner as a family. I like to eat chicken breasts. This is indicative to the stage of life I’m in. My children are babies. I have two of them. I can find chicken for $1.99 a pound from a wholesale warehouse, from as reputable of a large scale chicken farm as you can find. So I eat chicken breasts.
My mother eats chicken thighs. She, also, likes to eat chicken breasts. She has grown, birthed, fed, trained and raised up eight children, and has been eating chicken thighs as long as I can remember. And her mother before her ate chicken thighs.
There are so many people wanting to be heard these days. So many causes to rally around, so many voices crying for attention. Turn on the news for a few seconds, pick up a paper, or check your Facebook homepage. There are so many people, defending so many positions, asking for so many prayers, so many dollars, so much support.
And then there are the selfless ones, like my mother. The ones there to listen, to empathize, to cry. They seem to be few and far between these days. In a world where “I want” comes first (and is often loudest), attitudes of love-service are hard to come by. But I’m certain they’re there, ushering other people’s needs ahead of their own as they’ve done for years.
The diversity of the gifts these selfless ones foster are endless. In the past thirty years, my mother has cheered on and welcomed a writer, a nurse, a machete-wielding forester (my sister has reached the apex of feminine strength), a building engineer, an airline mechanic and a restaurant manager into the pool of life. And she’s still stewarding two more. As her peace with herself grows, she encourages us in the path of trust as well.
These selfless ones don’t need their voices shouting above the crowd. Instead, they’re the ones whispering in the ears of their little ones, “You can do it. You are strong. You are powerful.” Picking them up when they fall, and raising them up to love themselves, to use their gifts, and to be the men and women they were called to be.
These selfless ones don’t need a “mom blog” to reassure them that one day they’ll have time for continuing studies and pedicures. Instead, they look to and walk with the God of Hagar in the desert. “The God who sees me.” They’re comforted by His love, His Will and His guidance, knowing that He’s there for every step.
The selfless ones know there’s no “secret” to the easy life. That it’s hard work, much prayer, and a lot of grace. Even when grace is just being able to look back and say, “I made it.” From the other side, it must seem a blur of tears and smiles, and laughter and hurt. But so beautiful.
While I trudge through and soak in the young mothering days, conscious of how fast they’re passing, how fast my babies are growing, and wondering if I’m doing any of it right, I know I will embrace that day. Saying, “I made it.” Knowing I’ve had a hand in nurturing some of the finest souls I’ve ever been honored to meet. I will smile, and, I hope, eat my chicken thigh in teary silence.
In All Seasons 