Mama's Boy

Although she probably would hate for me to draw attention to it, today is my mama's birthday (well yesterday, publication took a while).

Before any of you ask, yes, I called her today. In fact, I called three times. I presume she had a good day because she was out celebrating every time I tried to call.

So, for her first birthday since I started a blog, I want to take to my blog to wish her happy birthday one more time.

As I have been thinking about her and her birthday, I couldn't help but think about how the giftcard from Kohl's just wasn't able to add up in anyway to the gifts she has given me. I mean, alot of who I am comes from my mom. She is where I get my rugged determination, my desire for excellence in anything I do, and the bald spot from my grandfather. She also encouraged me to draw and to learn about art. Alot of the finer things.

But one of the things I appreciate most, I have never really thanked her for.

I am fortunate to come from a fantastic Christian home. I was lucky enough to have a mother and father who not only believed but modeled it for me every day. (Don't worry, my dad will get his turn come Father's Day.)

Let me back up.

I hate getting in trouble. I hate being wrong. But most of all, I hate disappointing people who are important to me. I distinctly remember being a little kid hating to get in trouble. I didn't mind getting whipped as much as I hated that my parents were upset with me.

I don't know when the day was, but I remember the first time it hit me what mercy is. I had done something wrong the day before. In my little mind, it was really bad. My guilt was overwhelming, and I was certain my mama wouldn't even talk to me that day - did I mention I was dramatic? I probably committed a very minor violation, but it was awful to my young mind.

But when I went downstairs the next morning, my mom acted normal. She was herself again! She wasn't mad! She didn't say a word about the awful thing I had done! I wasn't in the dog house! I was her son again. Amazingly, she acted like nothing had ever happened.

I am sure that I asked her because I was not smart enough to figure the lesson out on my own. Well, when I asked her why she wasn't mad at me any more, she told me that she loved me and while she was upset for a while I was her son and she loved me so much she forgave me.

I never forgot that.

As I got older, I noticed how, like clockwork, each day started new with her having forgiven and forgotten whatever transgression had occupied my day before. I learned that punishment could last for a time, but love was alot bigger than that.

I distinctly remember on many occassions thinking to myself, "Mama always forgets by tomorrow. She forgives me." That was always followed by a sigh of relief and a soothed conscience.

I won't go into the whole story, but I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior when I was four years old. I am convinced that my parents raised me in such a way it was easy for me to understand God's love for me.

As I grew and developed my own spiritual life, I never had a hard time understanding God's forgiveness. I realized I had seen it tangibly since I was a little guy coming from the love of my mother. It was not stretch of the imagination to see where that came from. I knew what it meant for my sins to be forgiven, because if God was half as good as my mama at forgetting stuff then I was fine.

I thank the Lord all the time that I learned these lessons so young and that they were modeled so well.

When I began to really mature, I realized that the only way my mama was able to do with was her own walk with the Lord. So, reminded daily by her Bible left over from her early morning devotion, I began to work on my own walk with the Lord so that I could model the same things she did.

One of my favorite memories from high school rolling over to check the clock at 6 am, thankful that I had time to sleep. Every time this happened, I could see the hall light on and know that my mama was downstairs praying for me, for my family, and for the day.


So on my mama's birthday, I can't help but think of these lessons that she gave me. I hope that more than any gifts me learning to live up to her example will be a good way to return the gift.