Mom Traits: SERVICE

This is post number three out of five.  For Mother's Day, I'm sharing traits I love and respect in my mom.  See number one for more detail.

The next trait I love in my mom is one she taught me by living it out in front of me.  As a teenager, we’d go to the nursing home to visit my grandma.  I remember it being a little too warm in there, and the stuffy air smelling a bit like urine and cleaning products.  I wanted to see my grandma, but I was resistant to everything else.  The hallway was usually an obstacle course of residents parked or traveling in their wheelchairs.  We didn’t know them, but my mom told me to touch each one’s hand or shoulder, look them in the eyes, and say hello.  “People need to be touched at least twelve times a day,” she told me, “Who is giving these people their touch quota?  We have to help.”  So, I reluctantly followed behind her, squeezing hands, saying hello, and sometimes being pulled into a bent over hug.

 

The best example of my mom’s heart for service happened with my grandpa; her father-in-law.  You need to know that my mom hates feet.  A lot of moms kiss their kids’ feet or will rub their husband’s feet.  Not my mom.  Feet gross her out and she does not want you putting your feet in her space.  So, it really stuck out to me the day she decided to trim my grandpa’s toenails.  It was hard for him to bend and get his nails himself, so they had gotten bad.  Recalling this story simultaneously makes me cringe, remembering his gnarly, calloused feet, and be amazed, remembering my mom’s happy attitude.  She worked away, trimming the nails and rubbing lotion into the skin, just chatting pleasantly, as if it was no big deal.  There’s more.  Afterwards, when we got in the car to go home, I expected her have a major gross out rant to express what she surely held in earlier.  Nope!  I don’t even remember her mentioning it.  That brand of service is beautiful to me.

 

My last service story with my mama is how she would help me in my classroom.  I was an elementary teacher for many years and when my mom stopped working her own job, she volunteered to read with my students.  During my most difficult year, I had several kids with major behavior issues.  I was exhausted and wanting to quit every day.  My mom came and pulled kids out to a hallway desk and read with them one on one.  While she tried to read with everyone, I also later found out that she had a system.  She was prayerful as she walked in and would catch my eye and see if I indicated anyone that was having a rough day.  One boy often signaled to her, wildly waving his arms and mouthing, “Me!  Me!  Me!”  My mom took my toughest ones and somehow brought them back calmer and happier.  She told me they’d read, but also talk about life.  She pretty much had mini counseling sessions with them, inviting them to work out whatever was bothering them that day.  Her service was a gift, and also just the support of knowing she was joining me in my tough season.

 

There are so many other ways my mom reflects God’s heart through serving others.  I hope these stories have given a good glimpse, and also encouraged you in your places of service.  All these little acts of care – seen and unseen – matter so much.