Wednesday, April 18, 2018

My name is Mom

Over the last ten months, we’ve had nine different kids stay with us...and one thing they’ve all had in common that shocks me every time, is that that they all called me mom. Doesn’t matter if they stayed months or days- if they were old enough to talk, they identified me as mom.

Some of them probably chose it because Ms. Courtney was too hard to say/remember, and some were likely just copying our other kids, but regardless of how I introduced myself, I soon became mom to them.

For all of these kids I was a temporary solution, and so mom was a temporary title. In some ways it was more indicative of what I did, than who I was. I was the woman of the house. The lady who would get them snacks and read them books. The one who would wipe their faces (and bums), remind them “we do NOT jump on the couch” and smooth their hair and kiss their cheeks at bedtime. I did mom things, and so...I was mom.

Some of these kids have never had a “real” mom...some have several. Some totally understand their circumstance and some have no idea. But they all KNOW; They know what a mom is, and they know they want one.

We are created for family. Our hearts need it. Our souls long for it. When these kids’ families are broken, they search for pieces to put together to make a whole again. They see me mothering my kids, and instinctively they know- that is what they need...that is what they’re made for- to love and be loved. To be part of something and cherished by someone. I can never take the place of their moms...but I can at least mom them for a bit. And that is a gift to me as much as it is to them.

Mom. What a big and beautiful name to answer to. 
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