When I grow up, I want to be my mom. If you know my mom,
then you probably want to be her too.
There are a million reasons why I am beyond lucky to have
the mom that I do. But I just feel a need to share a handful of those reasons. And
I’m probably going to need two boxes of Kleenexes during this process.
When my mom was a little girl she made the decision to
attend church every Sunday. No big deal, right? I mean, a lot of kids go to
church. Except starting at about seven years old, nobody in her family went
anymore. So she went to church all by herself. And she always said a prayer
every Sunday morning that there would be somebody else in the congregation who
was also alone so she would have someone to sit by.
She said she always
had someone to sit by. Every. Single. Time.
And I think she has missed church maybe five times in her
whole life. Maybe.
On Monday nights, Mormons have this tradition called Family
Home Evening. It doesn’t technically have to be on Monday. But the LDS Church
strongly suggests picking a night a week to set aside for quality family time
where you can pray together, learn together, and have a good time.
Every Monday night, my mom had family home evening with her
dolls and stuffed animals.
If that doesn’t make you get a little teary, then you
probably have no soul. It’s Kleenex number five for me.
Growing up, when dropping me off at various events or
parties, my mom would give me this advice: “Sit by the person who’s sitting
alone.”
And even though as a little girl, she might’ve felt alone in
her beliefs, she has countless times since then, been the person providing the
relief, comfort, and companionship that someone else is so desperately praying
for.
She has, many times over, been the answer to someone’s
prayers. I’ve watched my mom inspire so many people. I’ve watched her serve
over and over and over. She is always sewing someone a blanket or taking
someone a meal. And if you’ve ever had my mom’s rolls then you know that is
reason enough to want to be like her when you grow up.
Because man, are they good.
And man. Is she good.
I envy her goodness.
I’ve never known someone with a purer heart or a more sweet,
sensitive spirit.
She is a rescuer. She loves deeply and completely. With her
whole soul.
One of my sweetest memories of my mom was during one of the
most challenging times of my life.
I was married at the time and after months of deliberation
due to the way things were going in my marriage, I called my mom one morning in
tears and said, “Mom. I think I need to come home.”
When I think about her response even now, I still get choked
up. She simply replied, “I’ll be right over.”
And she was literally right
over.
We spent that day packing and crying. And saying a lot of
prayers.
And I spent the next several months living with my sweet
parents who took care of me in every way. And they even accommodated a very
obnoxious wiener dog, who is still very grateful by the way for the royal
treatment.
Just like she did for me then, my mom has the ability to
turn something so difficult into something so sweet. And coming from someone
who has faced countless challenges in her own personal life, I admire her ability
to be so positive and faithful.
In fact, one of the biggest things I most admire about my
mom is her faith in Jesus Christ and in His Gospel.
I am the baby in my family, so as a little girl when my
siblings were all at school, I had some great one-on-one time with my momma. She
stayed home to be a full-time mom. Which by the way people, is waaaay more than
40 hours a week. And there is no such thing as overtime or lunch breaks.
Anyway, one of the sweetest memories I have from those
preschool days is playing this silly game with her that we made up.
It went like this:
I would say, “Mommy. I don’t like you.”
And she would pretend to cry. Only her acting made me
giggle. And then I’d quickly say, “Mommy. I don’t like you. I love you.”
And we’d hug and laugh. And after that happened a bunch of
times she would tell me she loved me too. And then she would ask me, “But
Kristen Jan, who loves you more than me?”
And without any hesitation I always pointed up because the
only person who could possibly love me more than my momma was God.
And Mom, I just have to say that I know you have a zillion
fans. I know that anyone who knows you adores and respects you infinitely.
But Mom. Nobody. NOBODY loves you more than me. Besides Dad.
And the Big Man Upstairs.
And for the record, I thank Him every day that I belong to
you.
Thanks for putting up with me.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there. Dog moms
included.
