A few months back, the emotional and fast-paced exhilaration of my mission came to a sudden grinding halt. Something dramatic and drastic happened that changed the course of my service -- and likely, my life. My mood fluctuated between "past feeling" and "absolute desperation" a few times an hour, and I was by no means the only one affected by the events. A few days later, I remember sitting with two of my old companions in Warsaw along with my mission president and his wife. What was supposed to be a debriefing turned into a group counseling session and ultimately three crying sister missionaries--and after something near an hour of this, one of the sisters remarked how badly she "just wanted to talk with [her] mom." Immediately, my mission president held out his phone to her (this was back in the days when we could only call our families twice a year) and had her make the call.
I don't know what it is about moms--I've never been too good with understanding the psychology or science behind these kinds of things. But what I do know is, in that moment of desperation there was nothing I wanted to do more than call my mom, too. I refrained--mostly out of the ridiculous fear that I'd later feel guilty for it. But it wouldn't have been the first time in my life that my mom has been there when my world was ending. She's been there for every success and every heartbreak, for every try and every failure, and I've never lacked her love and support. Even though I live five thousand miles away, she does everything she can to send her warmth and comfort to me--and as if packing my bags full of thermal underwear weren't enough, over the course of two winters she's sent me roughly my body weight in hot apple cider packets and canned soup (nobody tell her I'm in Poland, not the North Pole). In our moment of crisis, my mission president understood that our moms could offer us something that he couldn't, despite how wonderful and spiritual and inspired he is. He knew how powerful a mother's love is, and how helpful their unique counsel would be. About halfway through my mission I was reading in Proverbs and found a passage that sunk in, despite the large amount of time and even larger Atlantic that separates me from my mama. The original text is found in Proverbs 31, but when I read this back in October, I guess I was feeling one part creative and two parts cheesy, so I took some creative liberty and edited it for my own purposes. Here's to hoping that's not too terribly apostate. To quote from my journal: Proverbs 31: A Proverb of my Mother 10 Who can find a perfect mother? for her price is far above rubies. 11 The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. 12 She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. 13 She seeketh whole grains, and good and healthy things for her family, and worketh willingly with her hands, despite afflictions. 14 She is like the merchants’ ships; she bringeth her food from afar off, even Costco, and maketh beautiful things. 15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and holdeth back the hair of puking daughters, and waiteth up for her past-curfew son. 16 She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a garden and raiseth chickens and a dog alike. 17 She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. 18 She perceiveth that her children's grades are good: yet her lamp goeth not out by night. 19 She layeth her hands to the sick, and they are healed, and her hands hold the helpless. 20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. Her children do not go unnoticed nor comfortless. 21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with coats and a trunk full of thermal underwear, yea, and she knoweth where she hath laid the snow-shovel. 22 She maketh herself coverings of professional style; her clothing is collared and sweaters. 23 Her husband is all too well known in the gates and the bleachers, when he sitteth (and shouteth) among the elders of the blue-and-white-claud stands. 24 She maketh fine children, and helpeth them, and strengtheneth them unto their education. 25 Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in a time to come, when the science fair and Eagle Scout alike hath passed, 26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness and wit. 27 She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. She careth far more for her family than for herself. 28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. 29 Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou, Mom, excellest them all. 30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain, and although thou hast beauty above them all, a woman like thee that revereth the Lord, she shall be praised. 31 Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works (of which I myself am one) praise her in the gates. I left my favorite part of that scripture untouched. "Her children arise up, and call her blessed," is exactly what I'm trying to do at every available opportunity. I'm trying to make up for the tantrum I threw as a four-year-old at Walmart because I wanted bagged spinach, and for the time I forgot to put the chicken in the crock pot until three hours after I was supposed to. And no amount of blog posts or graduation speeches will ever balance out the senior year's worth of having to be reminded to do my statistics homework eight times a day--but the hope here is that someday, she won't remember that. Because she has sacrificed so much for me and our family, well before she gave birth twenty-years-and-a-handful-of-months ago, and this is my attempt to "arise up, and call her blessed." I'm so grateful that God thought to make families essential to the plan of salvation--and most of all, that He paired me and my mom together. It means a lot to know that no matter what happens and what we go through in this life, I can be happy with my family forever someday. I'm grateful for my mom, I'm proud of her, and I can't wait to see her again. She is my role model and friend. She heals everything and everyone she touches. And like I said two years ago--if I could become half the woman my mother is someday, I'll have succeeded. Somebody back home give my mom a hug from me--and let her know an even bigger one is coming in t-minus two months. I love you, Mom. Thanks for everything--and happy Mother's Day 💕
Making Japanese sushi with a Chinese-Irish girl in Poland, and other multicultural adventures3/25/2019
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