A Mother's Day Memory

I have many sweet Mother's Day memories.  In fact all 29 previous Mother's Days I have celebrated are sweet memories.  But one Mother's Day always stands out to me as being particularly precious.

  My three children were getting a bit older.  My youngest was 4, my middle child, 6 and my oldest 8.  On this Mother's Day, I was awakened by noises in the kitchen.  Some pleasant, some not so pleasant.  Noises of clanging, doors banging, and voices scolding one another as siblings often do when trying to work together.  I was urged my my husband to stay put, so I did.  These noises seemed to go on for quite some time, and my husband and I lay there snickering, wondering what these six little hands were up to.  Soon, my middle child, Brock, came tip toeing in, assuming all that noise had not awakened me.  He lay a tray next to the bed and tip toed out.  On that tray was a plate with a Pop Tart, and next to it a cold can of Diet Coke.  

I could not have been more loved on in that moment, if they had prepared a six course meal.  The fact that they had planned to get up and do this together FOR ME touched my heart!  It was precious then, and precious now.

I've always felt a little uncomfortable being "celebrated" on Mother's Day.  Every single day I have been a mother has been a celebration in my heart.  I am the one who should be celebrating this wonderful gift I have been given.  I am so thankful God has given me the opportunity to mother my three kids.  I love them and am proud to be their mom.  Thank you Blake, Brock and Bethany!  Love you all so much!