What do you call the precious woman who housed you inside her very body while you were being knit together by the Spirit of God? The earliest memory I have of my mother is when I was around two years old. We lived out on a ranch east of Alpine, Texas about 17 miles and I’m pretty sure my sister, two years older than me, was feeding me dog food. I probably ran to tell on my sister and Mom tried to calm the natives, so to speak.
I think my brother was a compliant child and easy going. My sister, however, came out of the womb strong-willed. I came along soon after and it didn’t take long before Mom was just trying to survive.
My dad flew helicopters for a Houston oil man who enjoyed buying ranches in various parts of Texas. It may sound somewhat glamorous, but the reality was while my dad was flying the boss around and eating steak, Mom was home with three linoleum lizards as she liked to call us. She was grateful for his job. The Lord provided well for them during this time, but it wasn’t without its challenges.
This was the early 80s. I’m not sure what Bill Gates and Steve Jobs were up to those days, but out on the ranch the wind would blow the phone lines down fairly frequently and we didn’t have television. An AM/FM radio, a piano and Dudley Hall preaching cassettes were all Mom had at her disposal. No Netflix. No 2-day free shipping from Amazon. The only social media to be found might be mom kicking us out of the house to go play with the javelinas and the copperheads. My sister and I are pretty sure there must have been some deep, dark sin in my mom’s life for her to be this isolated during such an intense stage of child-rearing. Ha-ha!
Dad was on call all the time. He had no way of knowing if he would be gone for one day or two weeks. He would’ve rather been with us on the ranch working cattle with the helicopter, but he had no control over his schedule. Mom said it was impossible to make plans as a family.
My mom persevered. She dug her heels into her faith and tenaciously went after everything God had for her. I wasn’t aware of all this, of course, but now that I’m a mom with three of my own little linoleum lizards I identify with her in a way I never imagined. I am so grateful that she and Dad chose to work together to train us up in the ways of the Lord. We have reaped blessing after blessing because of their faithfulness and integrity.
It doesn’t matter how many toys or square footage you have in your home. Raising kids takes all you have, plus some. Everyone deals with feelings of isolation and being overwhelmed no matter what socio-economic group you’re in. However, each one of us has a choice as to what we’re going to do when those feelings come up.
Mom found support during those hard years in her local church and key friendships with other women who were in the same stage of life. If you have friends like that, praise God for them. Tell them how much they mean to you. If you need a friend, ask the Lord to meet you right where you are. He’s a good Father and loves to show His goodness to His children. Grace to you as you journey this path. Don’t grow weary in doing good. And if you can, go hug your mama and tell her thank you for everything!
*If you missed any of our Mother’s Day posts then click on the links provided to read more precious stories of normal mom’s making eternal impacts on their families.
A Mother’s Love by Jessica Wright
The Gift and the Giver by Kayla Hibbitts
Jodi is a wife to Big Jodie and a mother to three vivacious daughters. Big Jodie and Little Jodi live in Plainview and decided they’re dug in like a turnip. Jodi serves as a worship leader at Harvest Christian Fellowship’s Plainview campus and loves to connect with friends, enjoy coffee with a lot of cream and sugar, and laugh as much as possible. She hopes one day to write a book about all her misadventures titled “I Didn’t Think It Through”. To connect with Jodi you can find her on her website Jodilfrance.net or on Facebook and Google +