Three score and thirteen years ago, an angel landed on this planet and made her home among us.

The third child (and first girl) of six, she fell somewhere in the middle of five other siblings.

She played the role of little sister to two and big sister to three.

And maybe it was all that practice of loving and living with so many different personalities that made this angel that is my mama so perfect at what she’s done for the past 50 years  – being the mom I can only dream of emulating.

Always unassuming, she goes about the business of caring for not only her family but her neighbors, friends and strangers as if it were her job.  And not just her job, but her passionate life endeavor.  Jesus placing His hat of love on her head that somehow became a part of her very mind.  Jesus placing His heart of love in her chest, its beat ringing out with every life she touches.

And she’s a creative soul.  Her love (and thereby HIS love) shows up in different ways for different people.  Based, not on her comfort or convenience, but on their need.  A meal.  A ride.  An encouraging note.  A friendly phone call. A conversation over coffee.  A much needed hug.  The list goes on and on.  Each and every encounter custom fit for the person blessed enough to receive it.

A woman of great faith, she started with her own children, instilling in us the unwavering belief in our great and personal God.  A faith that would equip us for times of trial and difficulty and grief.  We felt the arms of God Himself around our lives through her open and a always available arms.  That faith would trickle from our generation to the next, to friends and family and neighbors, to strangers and those who would flow in and out of her life.

I am humbled by her attentiveness to the hearts of others and by her ability to retain and remember the information of so many souls.  Her attention to details in the life of others baffles me.  She knows their stories, their family history, the dates and placed and people important to them.  Things that my feeble mind can only admire in awe.

My sweet mama.  The quiet one in a room teaming with those of us much less quiet.  Tending to our “needs”, continually asking what she can do for us, drawing us in to the comfort that is her heart and home.

I have always wanted to be like my precious mom.  When I was little that meant dressing like her, talking like her, following her around the room.

Now it means so much more.  I want to be like my mom. I want her heart for Jesus and others.  Her devotion to family and friends.  Her care for neighbors and strangers alike.  And though I see traces of her indelible fingerprints on my life, I still have so far to go.

I love you so much, mama.  Thank you for your sense of humor.  Your feistiness.  Your fun.  But more than anything in the world, thank you for your heart showing me, and all of us, exactly what Jesus looks like.

An angel that brought a little bit of heaven to earth.

Happy, happy birthday, mama.  To the moon and back.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

J