A Day in the Life of a Pastor – What about your Mom?



I recently wrote and entry about my dad. Thank you for all the kind words about the blog – he is one of my favorite people. One person said, “That was a great article about your dad but how come you never write about your mom?” I promised to write something about my mom.

My mom is the best athlete in the family. Even in her seventies, is in amazing physical condition and works out each day. She has been a proponent of eating healthy ever since I could remember. She is short. In fact, I remember as an adult patting her on the head and saying, “You are a short thing.” She looked up with a sweet smile and said, “I can still take you.” As a cocky second grader, I came home one day from school bragging how fast I was. She challenged me to a foot race. In front of all my neighborhood friends and family, she beat me. (My dad will tell you it was in high school but he is just plain wrong.) Still today…she inspires me.

My mom is my role model of “hard work and discipline. She went back to college after having me and my siblings to get her degree in dental hygenistry. I remember the round table in the family room with all of her books and lab manuals. She had a full day of classes, family commitments and then she would study late into the night. She go on to work as a hygienist for thirty four years. We both agree I was one of her worst patients– I spit up a bunch of water from the “squirty” thing and got her pretty good. Ok, that did happen in high school. Today, her days are filled with working her farm, the garden and her animals. Still today…she challenges me.

My mom rarely sits still. I once read a quote from Mario Cuomo – “There is always something to be done.” My mom personifies this. She will maximize her days in a way to get the best results. It also comes from a heart to serve. She came from a family of six kids and was often involved in taking care of the house or others in the family. She hasn’t stopped since. Still today…I want to serve like her.

Finally, mom calls me “Christian.” Yes, it is the name she gave me as a string bean of a baby. She named me and never let that go. Even as I wanted to create my own identity growing up, she called me her own. Now, as an adult, I have heard her correct people when they call me “Chris.” To her I am Christian – it means the world to me.

You gave me life…in more ways than you know! You are the Best! Love you Mom!

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