Sunday, May 13, 2012
I couldn't have been more than five years old. I was feeling sad, burdened by the trials and tribulations a little girl of such as age is challenged with. I do not recall the reason for my distress, but I do remember feeling lonely. I approached my mom and as she recognized my distraught countenance she bent done and asked me the simple question: "do you need your love-cup filled?" In that instant she swooped me up, sat me on her lap, and held me tight. I laid my head on her chest taken in by the scent of her skin. She held me close and stroked my hair until when she asked if my love cup was filled I answered "overflowing." My mom has never failed to make me feel loved.
She has been the epitome of class, confidence, beauty, and self-respect. Her conviction is outstanding considering the things she has gone through and the challenges she has faced. She has faith unlike anyone I have ever known. And I know that any degree to which I possess these qualities is owed to her. She has been my sounding board throughout my whole life. All-nighters were never out of the question when, as a child, I was too scared to sleep, or now when there is so much weighing on my mind and I need someone to talk to. Her example has helped my mature in my own spirituality and relationship with God. And that is probably the best gift she has given me.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you so much; thank you for all that you do for me. I hope that someday I am as good of a mother to my kids.
"Strength and honor are her clothing;
She shall rejoice in time to come.
She opens he mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her...
Charm is decietful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised."
Proverbs 31:25-28, 30
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Admit it. You aren't like them.
You're not even close.
You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them,
watch the same mindless television shows as they do,
maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes.
But it seems that the more you try to fit in,
the more you feel like an outsider,
watching the normal people as they go about their automatic existences.
For every time you say club passwords like
'Have a nice day' and 'Weather's awful today, eh?',
you yearn inside to say forbidden things like,
'Tell me something that makes you cry'
'What do you think deja vu is for?'