Being a man, I only know what a mom is by what I observe. I’m a dad. I can speak to the myriad of nuances that make up being dad – but mom, that’s a different story. What I can say unequivocally is that nature can produce a mother, but it takes love to make a mom.
There are babies born every day that are unwanted by the woman who gave birth to them. That woman, by virtue of giving birth to a child, is a mother. Yet it will be the woman who takes that child and raises that child as her own, loving the child and pouring herself into that precious child – that is what mom is made of. I don’t say that to disparage anyone who has given their child up for adoption. I realize there can be legitimate reasons for doing so, and doing it out of love for that baby. It’s love that makes a mom. Not biology. Love.
I lost my mom in a car wreck when I was twelve. It was pretty devastating. She had been a constant source of love, encouragement and hope in my life. Then one day she was gone. It was during that time that I found a level of comfort in God that I had never known before. He wasn’t mom, but I learned to look to Him to be more than some distant entity that I was to revere. I learned that He could be a source of love, encouragement and hope to me – on a personal level. While I couldn’t come home from school and give Him a hug, I could come to Him with my thoughts and prayers and find peace.
A few years later my dad remarried. The lady he married was widowed and had never had children of her own. In one “I do”, she had inherited five children, of which I at 20 years old I was the youngest. I no longer lived at home, so our interactions were few at the beginning. I am so very thankful that over the years she has become mom. While she didn’t give birth to me or raise me, she has loved me as if she had. There was no biology involved, but she is my mom without a doubt. She even claims me in public! She introduces me as her son. I introduce her as my mom. There is no “step” between us – only love.
The other mom in my life is the most precious of all to me. My wife Rebecca is a wonderful mom to our children. She gives of her love, her time, and her sanity to each of our kids in such an unselfish way. As long as she can remember, she dreamed of being a mom. She does it very well, and it shows by how our kids look to her and love her. It’s about the love. That’s what makes a mom, MOM.
I think of the other moms I’ve known in my life. Moms of friends who were so kind to me in the years after my mom was gone. Moms I’ve worked with who exemplified what truly loving their kids and family was. Single moms who’ve done whatever it takes to provide for their kids and show them love – even when it was wearing them out. A mom who in the last days of her life was consoling her children, telling them how precious they were, and how much she loved them. The one thing all of these ladies had in common besides having an extra X chromosome is love. Real love. Sacrificial love. Longsuffering love. Clean your messy diaper at 3 in the morning and then kiss you on the forehead while telling you how wonderful you are love.
It takes love to make a mom. It’s because it takes love to sustain a mom over the ups and downs of caring for a child. It takes the eyes of love to see past the mess, the awkwardness, and the disappointments that children sometime bring – to see the potential that the child possesses.
As we celebrate Mother’s Day this Sunday I’d like to say a warm “Happy Mom’s Day!” to all of the mom’s in my life and in the world. It’s the love you pour out into those you treasure that makes you mom. It’s that same love that makes each child’s heart a little warmer, eyes a little drier, and life a little more peaceful.
On behalf of us who have been blessed to have a mom (or moms) such as this in our lives:
Mom, we thank you for those looks you give us that say you love us when we haven’t been that lovable. We thank you for the sound of your voice that soothes our worries. We thank you for the prayers you’ve said over us that have kept us safe. Most of all, we want you to know that we love you to the moon and back.
“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” – Abraham Lincoln
I don’t believe it could be expressed any better.
