She’s My Hero

Before the sun creeps up behind the trees in our yard, she’s awake.

Some days she’s making breakfast. Some days she’s reading her Bible. Some days she’s rocking a sick baby. Some days she’s praying her heart out. Some days, she’s just sitting with her coffee on her back porch listening to the birds.

But everyday she’s my hero.

When everyone else gives up on us, she doesn’t.

Some days she’s sitting an extra hour at the table working through the Algebra problem that feels impossible to her son. Some days she’s wiping tears off her grown daughter’s cheeks and convincing her that nothing is outside of God’s loving hands. Some days she’s cleaning up another mess and shattered dreams from an attempted science experiment while her inventor son looks on.

But everyday she’s my hero.

Despite whatever the day may hold, she’s always got dinner ready.

Some days she makes a four course Pioneer Woman meal with fancy plates and glass cups. Some days she reheats spaghetti leftovers and puts up with the grumbling attitudes of some still-being-sanctified children. Some days, she drives us through Wendy’s and turns Jason Gray on to jam out too while we eat our burgers and fries.

But everyday she’s my hero.

Regardless of how tired she is herself, everyone goes to sleep at night safe and loved.

Some nights she reads us a chapter from The Chronicles of Narnia and sings us a hymn. Some nights she lets us stay up late and watch a Marvel movie with her. Some nights she puts people to bed at seven and then follows not long after. Some nights she feels productive and happy. Some nights she feels like she’s failing and is weary.

But everyday she’s my hero.

I don’t think mothers anywhere realize what all they are getting right because they are so worried about what they’ve gotten wrong. Maybe one day, if I have children of my own, I’ll understand that a little better. But right at this moment, I wish with all my heart that my Momma, and mothers everywhere, saw themselves through our eyes.

My Momma is tired, but strong. She’s imperfect, but devoted. She’s messed up, but she’s gotten a lot right. She loves, and is loved. She makes our house a safe haven and our hearts guarded treasures. She falls, but she gets back up. She forgets the truth sometimes, but always turns to the One who is truth to find it again. Some days she feels like she’s let us down, but everyday she’s our hero.

She isn’t our hero because she got it all right, or even because she always makes us happy. She isn’t our hero because she flawlessly executes household chores. She isn’t our hero because she used the best curriculum or found the best books for us to read. She’s our hero because she shows us time and time again the One who is perfect. The One who won’t ever let us down. That’s what makes a true hero.

So here’s to the extraordinarily ordinary mothers, especially mine.

Some days we remember to hug you morning and night. Some days we don’t tell you we love you enough. Some days we treat you like a queen. Some days our actions fail to show you the respect and honor you deserve. Some days we draw you pictures and write you letters. Some days we don’t even remember to pick our dirty laundry up off the floor like you reminded us 7,658 times to do already.

But everyday you’re our hero.