To the Mothers...

(My mother and I from several, several years ago.)

Mothers have pretty much perfected the art of measuring.

They know how much to use and how much to save.

How much to pour and how much to sift.

And how to be in multiple places all at the same time.

They know how to time and how to track.

The distance from A to B and the process of 1, 2, 3

They are great at multi-tasking, but if they’re not they always have the perfect home remedy… or Pinterest.

They are the ones who always have an idea for every project and a solution for every disaster.

They have to be able to measure time really well. With so many things reaching for their time and attention, one miscalculation could result in a serious predicament.  

They need the perfect combination of patience and grace. Their patience will be tried and their grace depleted often, but even mom knows the benefits of the time out corner.

They keep track and they cherish.

Every women strives to keep their house in mint condition, but in their eyes a few marks on a wall only adds to the beauty of their home.

Scribbles, scuffs, and scratches can be irritating, but in her mind, the memories of the artwork, bravery, and her night in shining armor can’t be painted over.

She loses a lot. A lot of her favorite tables, her favorite picture frames, vases, plates, cups, chairs, lipstick, blankets, jewelry… She loses a lot of favorites, but she sees it as a fair trade for her most prized possessions.

When it comes to measuring, moms have it down. Most experienced moms don’t even have to use a measuring cup; they can just look at something and say, “Yea, that’s enough.” It is an art form for many. But one thing mothers don’t know how to measure is love.

Mother Teresa said one of the most overwhelming and yet confounding statements that I have ever heard. She said, “Love does not measure, it gives.”

Love does not give deservingly; it gives sacrificially. It gives when it does not feel like it. It gives when it is tired and physically drained. It gives when it is not appreciated, and it gives when it is not expected. It gives when it feels like it has failed. It gives on the good days and it gives on the bad days. It gives when it feels like all is lost, and because it gives all is made right.

I think we could get a really clear picture of this if we replaced “it” with “moms” and “gives” with “love.”

Mom does not love deservingly; she loves sacrificially. Mom loves when she does not feel like it. She loves when she is tired and physically drained. She loves when it is not appreciated, and she loves when it is not expected. Mom loves when she feels like she has failed. She loves on the good days and she loves on the bad days. She loves when she feels like all is lost, and because she loves all is made right.

To my mom and to all of you moms on Mother’s Day, thank you for tearing up the instructions, throwing out the measuring cups, and loving without measure.