* Tribute to my Mom

“Get out of bed.” “Put on your coat.” “Do your work.” “Study hard.” “You can do it.” “God has a plan for your life.” “Act like you would if Jesus were in the room.” “Don’t stay out too late.” “Call when you get there.” “You’re not wearing that!” “Would you jump off a cliff if ‘everyone else’ did?” “God loves you.” “I love you.” These are the phrases I often heard throughout my childhood and teenage years, and even still, from the feisty little woman I call “Mom.” These phrases from my mother, or more the motivation and love from which they came, have greatly impacted my life and shaped me into the young woman I am today. I have come to see the women from which these phrases came as a hero.

Not only making sure that I was clothed and fed, but making sure I was clothed and fed and well, my mother has been my constant caregiver. She made sure I was always safe, while not relegating me to virtual confinement. My presence, my comings and goings, were always acknowledged and accounted for; she knew where I was and who I was with at all times. My health, safety, and comfort were always of her consciousness and concern.

I also had a unique relationship with my mother that most do not possess—she was my teacher from first grade through twelfth. She chose to home school me, as well as my three sisters, to incorporate into our academics not only learning to read, write, and do math, but also how to apply those things with godly values and integrity. Though she home schooled four girls, when it was my lesson turn, she gave her full attention and effort to my learning and success of whatever subject was at hand. My mother was a tedious and strenuous teacher, as my education was of great importance. She would never allow her shortcomings (such as math) to hinder my learning, but would be sure that I had a tutor for those lessons. She was often strict, bossy, and annoying in grounding me until I completed my work—but upon entering college, I realized those qualities, and having a teacher night and day, cheering me on to success, were of infinite value.

I have found, only in more recent years, that my closest confidante is my She is, and always has been, mother. She is, and always has been, there for me to discuss any personal matter, problem, or obstacle that I encounter, and willing to offer words of wisdom, prayer, and encouragement. Her encouragement has led me to accomplish many tasks and get through countless hurdles that I could never conquer on my own. Her love, humor, wisdom, and support have taught me to love and laugh, have given me knowledge and courage, and have led me to know that the fountain of all life and truly living is through relationship with Jesus Christ—qualities I think essential for getting through life victoriously, and also getting through it joyfully. She has proven her trustworthiness and tender love throughout my life, and has become not only my mother, but my closest, dearest friend.

Heroism—the greatest definition is sacrificing of oneself for others out of the love, goodness, and kindness of the heart. This greatest definition of heroism encompasses not only the “superman” who runs into a burning building to save someone in a single instance, but also a more long term, and often lifelong, sacrifice of one’s time, energy, and effort day after day. Such heroes may be found in the nurse who spends longer hours than required to help that patient recover, or the underpaid pastor who stays awake all night preparing a sermon that may touch the life of someone in the congregation, or the teacher who spends countless hours on his/her own time helping a struggling student succeed, or the mother who wakes up before daylight to make sure the house is warmed and breakfast is made for her little ones upon their waking.

There are many heroes who have performed great feats and acts of bravery that are often acknowledged by the media, community, through the giving of a blue ribbon, or a simple public “thank you.” However, through my mother, I have learned the greatest acts of heroism can be found in the way one lives and gives of his/her life each and every day, without praise, but quietly, humbly. My quiet hero is my mother. Who’s yours?