My Moma - Part II

Click here for: My Moma Part I

Dear Moma,

I may not admit if often, but I know that I am:

~ stubborn
~ competitive
~ loud
~ inpatient (but working on it)
~ outspoken (but working on it)
~ a bear when hungry and tired
~ inventive!  Just read this post if you don't believe me.
~ a procrastinator
~ chatty

I also know that there were 8 years that I just wasn't fun to be around; at all.  I'm sorry.  You are so forgiving.

During those horrible years from 15-23 I remember you trying so hard to get through to me in love.  I remember one way you always succeeded:  books.

I will never forget you buying me each Janette Oake book that came out; with loving words written in the front.  I have read them many times - your money was not wasted.

Thank you for taking me to the Christian Bookstore and buying me songs to sing in church.  I have sung them many times and again, your money was not wasted.  You are so loving.

Thank you for all of the toilets scrubbed so I could attend our private Friends school.  It was tough but I can see how much I needed GFA during this time of my life.

Even before private schooling, you sacrificed for church camp, Y Ball, every softball league I could play for.  Countless church activities, school functions and the amount of driving you and Daddy did for me! 

You knew how much it meant to stop and get our picture with the state signs on our awesome Midwest trip in 2009.  Thanks for making sure Daddy stopped; even though it was dark.  And we were hungry.  And very tired.  And still had forever to drive before we were done for the day. 

I also want to thank you for encouraging me to take a picture of this sign; even though we got there a half hour after they had closed the park.  You (and Daddy) never make me feel bad when things don't work out perfectly but show me how to go with the flow, staying cheerful and content no matter what.  You two always see blessings and I am learning to do that now, too.  You are so grateful!  


Thank you for always having time to spend with me. 

For all of the meals you have made for my "little" family, thank you.  You are selfless! 

The gifts that you just "happen" to come across that wind up in my hands - thanks.  You are my shopping buddy!

It's because of you (and Daddy, of course) that I know money doesn't grown on trees.  Hard work hasn't hurt anybody yet AND I'll always remember the lesson that if I paid (or had a part in paying) for something  that I would take better care of it.  For sure I know it's true now that I have kiddos and have learned the hard way that your way rocks!  You are a good steward of what God gives you.

I know there many times when I didn't like your answer to something and I acted naughty and ugly.  I am sorry for being so ugly and thank  you for doing the hard thing; trusting it was the right thing for me.  I needed a moma; not a friend.  You are a great moma!

For all of the coffee and Dr Peppers you have bought, the countless meals we have shared, I am blessed.  You are so generous.

You pick me up when I fall.  You pick me up so I go to the Y.  You pick me up so I have some time to myself before church.  You are so strong.

The Warrior

This morning my  thoughts traveled along to
a place in my life where days have long since
gone. Beholding an image of what I use to be. As
visions were stirred, and God spoke to me.

He showed me a warrior, a soldier in place,
Positioned by Heaven, yet I saw not the face. I
watched as the warrior fought enemies. They
came from the darkness with destruction for me.

I saw as the warrior would dry away tears As
all of Heaven's angels hovered so near. I saw
many wounds on the warriors face. Yet
weapons of warfare were firmly in place.

I felt my heart weeping, my eyes held so much, as
God let me feel the warrior's prayer touched.
I thought "how familiar" the words that were
prayed. The prayers were like lightening that never
would fade...

I said to God "Please, the warrior's name". He gave
no reply, He choose to refrain. I asked "Lord,
who is broken that they need so much prayer"?
He showed me an image of myself standing there.

Bound by confusion, lost and alone. I felt prayers
of the Warrior carry me home. I asked "Please
show me Lord, this warrior so true" I watched
and I wept, for mother, the warrior was you.

~ Larry S. Clark ~ 

Moma, As long as God gives me my memory, I will remember you praying over me while I was in labor with Jav.  You never demand a front and center position but the gentle touch of your hand on my foot is all that was needed.  To see your lips moving, KNOWING you were praying is a sight I never want to forget.  You are such a prayer warrior!

Thanks, Moma, for teaching that we just need to do get in there and do what we need to do, because it's the right thing to do; whether we want to or not.  You are so hard-working!

Thanks for setting the example of what a servant looks like.

Thanks for showing me that we never stop growing spiritually - that we have never "arrived."  You are so humble.

For the encouragement, love and support you continually give, I am grateful and blessed to be your daughter.  You are so encouraging.

I truly have the better end of this deal.  When the time was parent - child, I love that today you are my best girl friend in the whole wide world.  You are an amazing friend!

Thanks for being a:

Prayer Warrior 

She's down on her knees, with head bowed in prayer;
She looks weak and helpless, as she's kneeling there.
But the truth of the matter about this humble scene
Is that she's battling forces that our eyes can't see.

And her power is greater than earth's strongest man;
Against the army of Satan she courageously stands.
She's casting down strongholds and tearing down walls;
She's releasing the captives as she prays for them all.

She's waging spiritual war, with God in command;
She finds strength for the conflict in the blood of the Lamb.
So the next time you see her with head bowed in prayer,
Remember, there's a battle going on there.
©1997 Jan McIntosh

I try to say it often, but know it's really not enough:  thank  you - for everything.  I love you.