THAT Mum

When I was 20, I visited my friend in Nepal.  She was living in Kathmandu as a missionary and school teacher.  

One evening we met with other missionaries in the city to read the bible and worship Jesus together.  They were a real higgeldy-piggeldy bunch from all over the world.  Families, singles, old and young all crammed into someone's lounge.  And as the singing began, I looked around the room and noticed a mum and daughter, arms around one another, eyes closed, singing together.  It was serene and perfect.  

I decided there and then that I was going to be THAT mum.  I was going to be a mum who worshipped with her children.  Jesus would be the connection between us - the thread of gold that held us all together. 

Over 20 years and three children later, I am not THAT mum.

I tried.  I threw my absolute all into it.

But instead, I am the mum who discusses with her teenagers whether they'd have sex with a transgender person.

I am the mum who swears.

I am the mum who gets in the hot tub (weekend hire - recommended...) with her teenagers right after they've been smoking things she doesn't want them to smoke and, with their eyes bright, she chats about Jesus with them.

I am the mum who loves and welcomes their girlfriends and breaks all her 'I'll never be that kind of mum' rules by letting them stay over.

I am the mum who is so open with her children that they talk about masturbation and pornography around the kitchen table.

I am the mum who puts cigarette lighters in their stockings at Christmas because they are always losing them and stealing our matches.

I am the mum whose children discuss with her which drug dealers are the better ones in the town.

I am the mum who gets into bed with her teenage son in mental health crisis and hugs him tightly so he knows she's there, despite the shards of broken glass that litter the bed from his rage digging into her skin. 

I am the mum who has heated debates over Black Lives Matter and women's rights with her children.

I am the mum who smoked a cigarette with her boy, just so he'd chat with her.

I am the mum who speaks truth over her children, even when they roll their eyes at her.

I am the mum who doesn't give up on her children, who always accepts, always loves and always hopes.  Even when hope feels like a shadow.

And today, on Mother's Day, as I fight the disappointment of not being THAT mum, I remember these words from 1 Corinthians 13:

 

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. 

Despite not being THAT mum,  I'm a mum who loves her children.  And that's enough.

So if, like me, you are facing disappointment today, read this and be encouraged.  I'm preaching to myself here.

Nobody else is a mum to your children.  

Nobody else can parent them the way they need.  

Other mums have different races to run.  We have ours.  We run in our race.  It might look very different to the races that other mums run.  We cheer each other on, we don't compare and we don't lose hope.

Love never fails.