On Donuts and Pursuing Holiness

I love Mother's Day because I love being a mom. This year, my family didn't do their traditional breakfast in bed, since we decided that none of us wanted to get up that early. Instead, we did breakfast on the couch at midnight. (Breakfast always consists of a cup of coffee with my favorite Krispy Kreme donut -- chocolate on top and white cream in the middle. I only eat them on Mother's Day and my birthday.) But my kids did still make cards, with notes inside. John has taught them well that you don't just sign a card -- you write a note. I hope they never stop doing that. Their notes are my most precious gifts, encouraging me in a way nothing else ever could. My son thanked me for spurring him to godliness, Leah called me her mother and friend. These words I store away in my heart as treasures.

I still remember looking at my babies in wonder that God would give me such a precious trust. How honored and humbled I felt to be the one they depended on for love and discipline. My heart was full because I knew this was my life's work -- I had been born to be their Mommy. My fierce but foolish love determined that I would be the perfect mom and they would be perfect children -- or I would die trying. And indeed I have died. Many times. How self-exalting and vainly ambitious to set such a ridiculous goal in the first place. No job is better suited than motherhood to battling these very sins.

My love is as fierce for my children today as the hour I first held them, even though long ago it became evident that perfection was out of the question for either of us. I realize that that is not a cause for sorrow. Our imperfections rub against each other and scrape off the self-centeredness here, the pride there, the independence from God in other places. My children force me to see myself as I really am -- and I am accountable to do that and so much more for them.

When the dust settles from this Divine work, we will face Him as He is, we will have the likeness of the humble servant, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross scorning its shame. I can only say I am so thankful for these unique children -- John, our strong lover of all that is just and logical; Leah, our dreamy songbird, just drifting along. At times the work is wearisome, and I am tempted to let up. At other times the joy is sweet, as I see glimpses of what by faith they are becoming. Together we pursue Holiness in a way only God could orchestrate.