When I was a child, I thought that my Mother had it made.
I was so right and so wrong in so many ways all at once.
I thought she got to pick the most fun chores to do herself, and everyone else had to do the boring and nasty chores.
I thought she had it so easy just ordering everyone else around as she sat reading a book.
I thought she surely got to pick what she cooked so she never had to eat anything she hated.
I thought she, being the boss of the house, had everything she ever wanted.
I didn't see the hours of thought she put into how to divide the chores: who was capable of doing what, and who really needed to learn a specific job.
I didn't see how much time she put into planning meals that would fit in the budget while checking all the nutritional boxes.
I didn't see her put back that dress she liked to buy shoes for a child who would outgrow them in three months.
I didn't sit in her brain while she tried to read to hear the wheels turning about the schedule next week and needing to call the dentist and get the oil changed and pick up the dry cleaning and visit a sick church member in the hospital.
I didn't see the tremendous mental and emotional loads she carried constantly—because she carried them so effortlessly to my eyes, that they were invisible.
What I did see, was how her eyes twinkled when Daddy teased her.
How her hands kept moving and creating even on the most difficult of days.
How she never forgot a single person's name or maiden name or who they were related to.
How she genuinely loved and cared for every person who crossed her path.
How she read her Bible every single day, and it was always a delight, never a drudgery.
How she walked through life rejoicing just because of the love of Jesus in her heart, whether times were good or bad.
How she pushed through fear and anxiety, picked herself up, and kept going, trusting in God to take care of our family.
How she stepped out in faith and saw God provide over and over.
How she loved every one of her children so fully and deeply, and thanked God for us.
How she made a feast out of seemingly nothing.
How she made life fun.
How she loved both practically and extravagantly.
How she didn't just see needs, she saw opportunities to make people feel seen and loved.
Really, my Mother did Have It Made.
Just not in the way I thought.
She Had It Made, because she Made It Had.
She took each day as a gift from God to honor and praise Him in.
She loved others and served others in special ways many people would never even think of.
She never felt like she had too many kids because she always missed the ones they lost.
Her heart was always to be thankful for the blessings God had given and trust Him to take care of the details.
My Mother Had It Made, and you can, too.
