I was a rather energetic child — understatement. It was difficult for me to sit still — impossible — and I was a bit of a challenge — a real PAIN — to the women who were trying to teach me in Sunday school.
When I was six, one Sunday morning (so I'm told) I was more of a challenge (a bigger PAIN) than usual. The Sunday school teacher threatened to take me to my parents (a fate worse than death) if I didn't "simmer down."
I calmly informed her that, "My daddy's out of town and I don't have to mind my mother."
I'm sure this sounded good to me at the time. I am also sure it was proven to be false about three minutes after the words left my impertinent little mouth.
This Sunday is Mother's Day. My mother should get a medal. I was ADHD before there was such a thing. I think I helped invent it. But this Sunday she won't get a medal. She'll get the traditional corsage, a Mother's Day telephone call and the usual card which I'll sign, "I love you — and I'm sorry."
Like all holidays, Mother's Day is bittersweet. Many will celebrate with gifts and cards, honoring and thanking their mothers for all she has done for them. But for some, Mother's Day is a day to be endured. It brings back memories of a dysfunctional home and unhealthy parenting styles.
If you are in the first group, the celebrating group, I want to remind you of something. You are the recipient of the greatest earthly blessing there is, the blessing of being born into a loving and nurturing family. You have a leg up on the rest of the world. You are who you are because of this wonderful blessing. No possession is more valuable than the fact that you can celebrate Mother's Day. If you were loved, you learned how to love. If you were secure, you learned how to trust. If you were taught about God, you learned how to have faith.
My prayer for you is that you will never take your blessedness for granted, that you will never stop being thankful, and that you will pass this most precious of blessings on to your family and friends.
Happy Mother's Day — and mother, if you're reading this, I love you — and I'm sorry.