Today is my mom’s 91st birthday. A year ago, we had an open house to celebrate her 90th. More than 80 people came to honor my mom. All six of the cousins were here, our first time all six were together in more than 25 years.
My mother is a treasure in my life. I admire her for many things, but the most important of all is the faith she exhibits to me. She wasn’t born again until later in life, although she was a lifelong church goer. As she says, she was blind and then suddenly she could see. She may have come to a saving faith when she was older, but she made up for it in the decades that followed. She prayed me into the Kingdom thirteen months after she accepted Christ. My mom prays Proverbs 11:21 for her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren: “But the descendants of the righteous will be delivered.”
I never knew my dad. He was killed in an accident when I was an infant, but I thank God for giving me all these years with my mom. She is eager for her homecoming in heaven, and yet she is not anxious to leave her loved ones in this world. That too is an example to me.
When we built our home almost nine years ago, we invited Mom to come live with us. These past years have been a time to treasure. Sure, it isn’t always easy, living with one’s elderly parent. There are times we rub each other the wrong way. Probably because I never cease to be her baby girl, and no matter how old I get, she never ceases to be my mom. But I wouldn’t have traded these years for anything. One of the highlights of my day is coming downstairs in the morning, usually for about my third cup of coffee. By then, her bedroom door is open, and she is seated in her chair beside the bed. Her Bible is open on her lap, her eyes are closed, and her hands are clasped as she prays for all of those she loves.
How blessed I am. Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.