I capitalize "Mother" because of it's bliss

I haven't always been a Mother.  Occasionally I wonder what my neighbors think of me.  Not the adults... the children, or the teenagers that I converse with in passing.  They most likely see me as a mom, a wife, a sunday-school teacher, or a mail checker. To them, I'm one of those regular things you catch at a glimpse, like a stop sign they see, a teacher they interact with, or a spoon they use but really don't think twice about.  Please don't misunderstand. I'm not belittling stop signs, teachers, and utensils... or comparing them by any means. Simply stated, they don't question who I am.  They see me as the neighbor next door, that lady down the street, or Channing's mom.  What do I think about their perspective?  I'm okay with that.

It's completely fine for them to file me as a common face, not thinking twice about me or what my world is like. In fact, I want them to do that.  That's what childhood and adolescence is made up of.  Children need that.  We all need that; The face that reminds you of Sally, that building that looks like it could be from your child neighborhood, the color that reminds you of a wall in your parents home, or the smell that reminds you of your old school. Granted, the memories that float back to us are necessary at times, even if they are bad recollections. Sometimes the bad ones are just as important as the good.  I always want to skip the suffering, sad, or difficult part of a movie, but my husband never lets me.  He forces me to sit through it because, as he always says… "It makes the GOOD parts that much BETTER!"

We can become stronger than and wiser from those wretched, unpleasant memories! As for the good reflections, that is where joy is built.  Hope, security, and happiness can be found there.  As life goes on, new memories build on past memories.  One routine that could seem meaningless at a certain season of life can suddenly find deep significance as we add it to our memory foundation. A new layer opens; greater heights are met, while better views are seen.

Last night I had an experience that enlightened my view.  It is one that happens often, yet can be easily overlooked.  This kind of rejoicing moment has been universally enjoyed for the span of... forever I'm sure.  Despite this, it will surely be one I relish on as my hair turns silver.

There have always been parents. Have you ever thought about that?  I believe that even before we arrived here, we had parents. Not only that… but they were loving, merciful, gracious, kind, and angelic parents; the creators of our souls; all too aware of us and what we would go through.

Now, to last night… I'm cleaning up one of the rooms of our home, listening to my son and husband play and wrestle in the other room.  This sounds pretty ordinary right? Well, let me just tell you, it's not.

There is something incredible going on here. That scent of goodness is hitting me. I have just stepped to a greater height and clearer view.  I hear my son's lovable laughter… My husband’s engaging excited voice... The feeling in our home brightens as they interact. As a Mother, I keep these things and ponder them in my heart (Luke 2:19).  The depth of my smile is immeasurable. This is home… heaven on earth.

It is so easy to forget that I haven't always been a Mother.