Mother may I?

It's the cliche answer to the common question...who is your role model? Most everyone I know would say "my momma." I think it takes about 18 years of life before a young person really begins to give credit where credit is due. Now I am 32 and I find myself cherishing memories that my mom gave me, beyond incredibly difficult circumstances. The more I know about my personality, love languages and work ethic, the more I realize that we really are just one big grown up version of our childhood.

My mom grew up with polio and all the physical challenges it brought her. She lost her husband at the age of 34 years old. Mother of three. That's only two years older than me. While I do not remember his passing, I do remember the "pink elephant in the room" that was the underlying story of the emotions in our home. But, I had a healthier home with one parent than many have with the presence of two parents. My momma, strong as nails, never, not once, let anyone feel sorry for us. She put her emotions aside on our behalf. She is a picture of dignity and pride. She is a picture of great fortitude. And she NEVER EVER COMPLAINS.

She taught me to hold my shoulders up because everyone looks skinnier when they stand up straight and suck in. By watching her, I learned to smile and greet people, even if they were a stranger. She taught me how to cook without using a recipe (a trait that has paid off!) I still hear my mom saying "if you will just take 2 minutes and make up your bed, it will make your room look clean, and you'll be glad to come home to a made bed." She also never leaves the house without makeup and hates it when I do, ha! She never made an excuse for laziness. She made us fight our own battles and didn't try to fight them for us. Most of all, she had expectations for us. We knew we were expected to "do right" and make wise choices. Always. She raised three kids, who are independent and successful, all by herself. I think that's a modern day hero. Don't you?

April showers brought May flowers. 2011. True Story...

I said to Daniel last week, "Do you remember where we were this time last year?" Final arrangements for our May 20th wedding were being made; spending quality time with folks that I wanted to share this special time; organizing how my 'stuff' including my car would be transported to West Virginia after the wedding. We had already concluded our April bridal showers and going-away parties and had moved on to daydreaming about going to Negril after our wedding. We were getting ready for a new adventure to say the least.

 Referring to your life as "chapters" or "seasons" is not uncommon rhetoric, but for me, it was applicable in every single area of my life. In February of 2011,Daniel proposed with a big-blingin'-diamond and we planned for an engagement that was only about 10 weeks long. I rented out my Northeast Jackson townhome and turned the keys over to a renter(little did I know she didn't like to pay rent, but I'll spare you that story). Walking away from that townhouse where so many memories were made; memories of fun and memories of struggles that came with the single 20's. The living room where I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning finishing papers for Graduate School; the deck in back where many conversations with friends took place; the front yard where a tornado traveled and required me to earn a green thumb. The only thing missing, when I locked the door for the last time, was a classic U2 song to properly soundtrack the moment. I drove away from a job that I dearly loved aside from its travel demands; I developed many life-changing skills and relationships; where I developed a deep passion for young people making wise choices about their future. Most importantly, I drove away from a chapter of my life where I found an understanding of the society around me and the differences among it's people. I wept harder than I think I ever have as I drove away. I knew what I had invested my heart and soul in, was now just a piece of my story. I left a church, Pinelake, that stood as a rock for me; shifting my focus when my world felt like it was crumbling at times. A body of people who urged me to press in deeper with my understanding and passion for the Lord's call on my life.

 All of those changes make me reflect back on such a sweet, sweet season. The act of merging my life with Daniel's felt so natural and so true. I don't ever want to forget it, how I felt the newness I believed the Lord provides us when we ask. I was surrounded by unwavering love of the people whom I hold very dear to my heart. You see, for many many years, I was the one planning the showers and throwing parties for my friends in their season of weddings and babies. To be on this side as a recipient was surreal moment. We are approaching our first anniversary and it has been a year of excitement and renewal. People talk so poorly about the first year of marriage, and to you, I would like to say, you were wrong. Way wrong. It has been everything I hoped it would be and more. And while those tears I shed about leaving such familiarity behind were necessary, I am so incredibly confident that Daniel and I are in the right place, together. I can't believe, we are approaching our first wedding anniversary. I have blogged many times this year about the changes and my gratefulness for my husband, and you might be totally annoyed by it. But what better part of life to celebrate, right?