This Mother’s Day

I was seventeen when my mom died. 17 years, 4 months, and 12 days old to be exact.  Surely you can understand when I say holidays were a bit of a gloom following her death. Mother’s Day especially was anything but a reason to celebrate.


It was pitch black late on Friday night and I was lying in bed thinking of just how blessed I am. Growing up I’d hear an old hymn from time-to-time that continues to inspire moments like these:

When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed, When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost, Count your many blessings, name them one by one, And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

As I lay in the dark, the list of blessings that came to mind continued to grow. And then there in the quiet of the night, my wife, who is a wordsmith in most every way, whispered a simple compliment my direction. They were the type of words that beckon me to fight for faithfulness, obedience to Christ until death, and ignite a desire within me to fight for the holy matrimony we vowed all those years before.

I adore this woman. She is my bride. She is my wife.

And in our house, in our vehicles, and at our dinner table where we feast as family, she is Mama Lou. She is Mama Lou to Mooshkas who we wondered at one point would even exist. And on this Mother’s Day, I am so excited to we get to celebrate her.


As I began to drift toward sleep the opening words above began to resurface out of nowhere-“I was seventeen when my mom died.”

No longer fighting for sleep, I began to contrast life today to how it was back then. The contrast was so stark. I remember the peril of existence before and after her death. But as I aim to count my blessings one by one that life I once knew continues to fade. I am no longer “tempest tossed,“ as the song reads. I am not “discouraged, thinking all is lost.”

Today, I live on mission with an intentional drive to show Christ’s love in all facets of life. I am encouraged, having great hope in Jesus that He will build His Church before our very eyes. I am confident He will fulfill His purposes through my marriage, Mooshkas, and ministry. I am optimistic because Christ is just. so. proven. in my life.


I shared earlier that I was 17 years, 4 months, and 12 days old when my mom died. I didn’t know this off the top of my head. Unable to sleep, I looked it up along with how long it has been since that tragedy. As it turns out, this coming week marks 17 years, 4 months, and 12 days. The exact amount of time has passed.

What an amazing blessing I have been given. This Mother’s Day I get say I have known two of the greatest moms the world has ever seen.

 


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