Everyday Hero #4

 September 17, 2022

My fourth Everyday Hero is my mother. Before I go any further, it needs to be said that our family was far from perfect. We had our issues, but since I still have living siblings and nieces and nephews, it wouldn’t be fair to air our dirty laundry publicly. Suffice it to say, no family is perfect, and ours was no exception. Like all families, some things got swept under the rug where they still lie, and other things we handled as best we could.

That being said, my mother remains one of my heroes even after having gone on to be with Jesus. One of the main reasons for this is her decision when I was about 11 or 12 that we as a family should start going to church. I wasn’t too keen on the idea, but she persisted, and one Sunday, instead of happily waving to my friend Jack as he sullenly stared from the backseat of his family car enroute to church, I joined the sad procession myself. 

It was my mother’s decision and insistence that led to my brother coming to Christ, and ultimately, myself. But that was only the beginning of her hero status. Growing up, every Friday evening we would pile in the car and head to her parents’ house for dinner. We stayed until the Friday night fights were over. Saturdays was at my father’s home for dinner, staying until Lawrence Welk was over. It may not seem like much, but the orderliness of our life was a gift beyond measure. Sunday was church, morning and evening; Tuesday, Christian Service Brigade, Wednesday prayer meetings, Friday and Saturday at our grandparents.

I was an adult before I thought to ask mom what that was like for her. “I always felt I was in second place,” she responded, suddenly choked by tears. “It was hard.” Kids don’t often know the sacrifices made for them by their parents. I sure didn’t. 

When I was fourteen, she made another of those sacrifices when I responded to a challenge to give ourselves fully to God at a missionary conference. Having just walked down the aisle of the church, the missionary then asked parents to stand in support of their children, even if it meant not seeing them for years at a time. Mom and dad stood. I didn’t understand then the courage and commitment it took to do that. Today, I know.

Mom and dad were married for 67 years (I think). Their faithfulness to the Lord and to each other were a gift most kids never experience. I’m a lot like my father, so I surmise that living with him wasn’t always easy. I know I exasperate Linda quite frequently, and have benefitted from her forgiveness more times than I deserve; I’m sure my father experienced the same from mom. She prayed for me, loved me, and most of all, loved Linda.

One last thing. Mom taught me one lesson that has kept me out of more trouble than I can recall. I had made a commitment to something, but something better had come up, and I wanted to break that original commitment for the other choice. “You stick with your original commitment, even if something better comes along,” she advised. I’m sure there are times when that advice might not be the best, but it has sure saved me a bundle of trouble, and made decision-making much easier. Thank you, mom; my Everyday Hero!