When I feel like my mom I feel proud...

This post is not prompted by mothers day though it does seem timely. Rather, its prompted by my mom-Her ways are etched in my heart and mind so deeply that I realize they sometimes flow out of the person I am. My mom has been very present in my life. I am thankful. I have observed her making countless meals, reading the Bible and devotionals daily, hugging my dad as they prayed together each morning, rocking and singing babies to sleep, engaging in games, teaching Sunday school classes, humming her way through a task, praying for us kids, laughing hysterically until she cries, playing on the floor with young children, worshiping Jesus with her eyes closed-often with hands raised or a tear rolling down her cheek, redirecting a rambunctious child, helping a friend, cheering loudly at events, working in the yard with her sun-kissed face and shoulders...the list goes on. Her ways are beautiful to me and my life has been shaped by them.

Recently-because I work every other weekend at a senior care home- I have been recalling the moments when I observed her caring for both her mom and her dad at different times as they came to the end of their lives on earth. I have never, in all my life, seen such tender, attentive, and loving care given to someone. She did this in the way she spoke, the way she touched, the way she sang, the way she prayed, the way she read to them what they would've wanted to read for themselves, the way she knew what they wanted when they were unable to ask, and even the way she administered pain medication or swabbed a dry mouth.
My job has put me in more and more situations to care for elderly people who are in similar situations as my grandma and grandpa were in before they went to heaven. And so often as I interact with these dear people (even the use of the word "dear" as a way of describing people people makes me sound like my mom!), I will all of the sudden recognize my mom's voice as I say something to them or see my mom's hands as care for them. In these moments, I feel like my mom. And when I feel like my mom, I feel proud.

Just yesterday I had the opportunity to comfort someone as he began to take what seemed to be some of his grueling final breaths. I started to sing "What a Friend we Have in Jesus" as I rubbed his back and then reminded him he wasn't alone. I felt like my mom in those moments-and I felt proud. The day before, I went in to see a man who has lived so meaningfully and known God so well that he has surely done his part to bring light to this world he won't live in much longer. He spoke a few words to me and then I to him. All the sudden I was aware that I sounded like my mom-and I felt proud. When I put my arm around someone as we sing and encourage them to join in, I feel like my mom. When I know how to graciously respond to someone who is confused or upset, I feel like my mom. When I feel the strength to genuinely go the extra mile to bring comfort or care to someone, I feel like my mom. I love this work I get to do and I know that it is in part because I have seen a woman who does it so well that I feel it is a very high honor to attempt to do the same. I know my mom doesn't do these things so remarkably because she is an RN (good thing because I'm just a CENA so I wouldn't have much hope!). She does these things so remarkably because she knows God and has His heart. She truly loves people because she truly loves God. For showing me love in action towards the greatest and the least...Thank you mom. Sometimes I feel like you, and when I do, I feel proud.