A little over a year ago we were praying for Amir and Mrs. Larijani’s baby Abigail who spent 49 days, many quite scary, in the hospital before she could come home. I am over-the-moon excited to report that this little one is doing exceptionally well! She is a very happy, well-adjusted, healthy baby girl. This Mother’s Day her Mama, Mrs. Larijani, wrote the following:
“I am a Mom because of this sweet one.
“Most days, I feel unworthy to be the one that can comfort her when she needs it. Sometimes, she gets so upset and screams so loud. She will reach or crawl frantically to me. I scoop her up and in a minute she calms right down.
“I get to be greeted by her smile each morning.She will crawl around saying “Mamamamamama” and not need anything.
“She gives me superpowers I never knew I had.
“I scan a room before leaving it to make sure she is OK.
“I can see what she is doing sometimes with a wall between us.
“I can’t sleep when she is awake (unless I have the flu).
“I am learning to move faster than I have needed to move in several years.
“I can make her mad only to have her giggle 5 seconds later.
“I so often feel the weight of how much she trusts me.
“I wanted [my Husband] to have the opportunity to be a dad. I totally downplayed how important I would be.
“This one made me a mom. Her birth mother gave me the weighty gift of motherhood.
“How thankful I am for the both of them.”
I love this. I love so much about it. Her first Mother’s Day was amazing. This, her second Mother’s Day, was more reflective, and while still delightful because she’s a Mom, she’s had more time to ponder the weight of it all.
“She gives me superpowers I never knew I had.”
Isn’t that an amazing thing as a parent … the ‘superpowers’ our children give us? The power to calm their storm, to heal their pain, to empower them in weakness, to encourage them in anxiousness. But there’s also the power to hurt them in ways no one else can because we’re Parent. That gives us the power to teach them how to fail – hopefully with grace … how to admit our mistakes and take responsibility for our own behavior, choices, and actions … to teach them that we’re all sinners, even Mom and Dad … and how to ask for forgiveness.
Not long ago my sister, who has been jealous of me all her life, made a snide comment about me in front of my daughter. She said something like, “Your Mom always thinks she’s right.” To which my daughter immediately responded, “Actually, no. My Mom knows she’s not always right and is very humble about it.” Shut my sister up. I taught my girls from the beginning that I’m not perfect, that I make mistakes, that I am in need of forgiveness, and I’ve had to humble myself many-a-time to tell them I’m sorry and ask for forgiveness. The beautiful thing about that? My girls have always forgiven me. Wow. So very powerful.
“I so often feel the weight of how much she trusts me.”
Trust is such an incredible gift. We can easily think it’s a given … that it’s owed to us simply because we are the parent. But that is not true. Trust is a gift … a very valuable, weighty, gift. One we should show great respect and handle with great care.
My daughter recently shared with me part of a recent conversation she had with a friend. She told her friend that she’s learned over the last couple years how much I protected her and her sister as they were growing up, and she said that while she thought I was the best mom ever before she knew, now she knows I’m the best mom ever to eternity and back.
Wow. I am so eternally humbled. That is a gift. And a responsibility. I do not take it lightly, nor do I mess around with it. I respect it. I handle it with care. And I treasure it deep in my soul.
“I wanted [my Husband] to have the opportunity to be a dad. I totally downplayed how important I would be.”
It is a very humbling place when we, as parents, realize the extent of our importance and value with our children. Our children are born with a Mommy-Spot and a Daddy-Spot hardwired into the very depths of their beings, of their very souls, and if we don’t fill them, they will forever remain empty, abandoned, unfulfilled … and longing. No one else can fill that spot. That is a huge responsibility,
Now that my daughters’ father has passed, and I’m all they have left, they say from time-to-time, “Mom, you cannot die! You cannot orphan me!” I assure them that I pray all the time that God would let me live a very long time just for them. Neither of our families cared to invest anything in our children, so they don’t have any aunts, uncles, grandparents, or cousins who care one way or another whether that they’re even alive. This is a heavy burden for me that I pray about all the time … that God would enable me to be and become the Mother they need now and tomorrow and for as long as God would let me live on this earth. I pray that God would enable me to pour so much of myself into my daughters that, when I do pass someday, they will have enough to hold them over till they join me on the other side.
That’s … wow. That’s … humbling. Me? I’m not anything exceptional. I’m normal. I blend in. I’ve not done anything out-of-the ordinary in my life. I’m average. Except … to my daughters. To them, I’m everything. They not only need me, they want me and long for me.
That’s power. That’s trust. That’s value.
That’s a precious, priceless gift from Holy God, and I never, ever, ever want to take it for granted or to give it a value less than what it is.
That means I have to believe in myself and my own value. And that’s … huge.