#Mommoments

Sunday morning, I was standing in church singing. By myself. Thank goodness. There is a mom and two little girls who stand in the front of the choir every week during the 11am service. I always watch the little girls because they remind me of me and my sister and I miss singing with my sister. They always look at each other to figure out if the other one is singing the right part and the mom always looks to encourage or help. Sunday morning, the little girls really wanted to get the part right so they were both looking at the mom who was praising her heart away to Jesus, while also teaching those little girls their parts. That moment was maybe more beautiful than the entire service. Don't get me wrong. The music was incredible. The message was written for me but that moment grasped my heart and my emotions and my head and made me put myself in her shoes.

Except those little girls were 16 and 17 and 18 and they weren't singing. They were just living. A very mundane normal day-to-day life. They weren't on a stage next to me. They were occupying seats in my classroom, asking me questions about my past. They were sitting in the chair next to my desk talking to me about their goals and strengths and weaknesses. They were real. So real. And they were looking at me just like those little girls looked at their mom, except it was in my classroom when I talk about my real life or my own goals. And I was their teacher, not their mom. Their eyes set on me as I speak and share my own experiences. Waiting for their opportunity to see if they "are doing it right." Sometimes, it wasn't just the girls, it was the boys. It wasn't just the daughters, it was the sons too. It was the stares and the big eyes when I spoke the Truth and the compassion when I shared the things I have learned from.

Those little girls reminded me of a Truth so deep. They follow their mom as she follows Jesus and every day, my kids, my girls, and my boys, who sometimes call me Mom, the title of a high prestige, follow me as I follow Jesus. Sometimes to get the notes right and sometimes to engage in something so much deeper. As I struggle day in and day out with the reality that I'm not a biological or even legal adopted mom, I am reminded of the sweet faces I get to stare at that teach me something too. And sometimes they call me Mom and sometimes they mean it.

To so many sweet friends struggling with what the title of "Mom" means in your situation... it means more than you think and you're more than you think-- I see you and pray for you faithfully. Love you more deeply than you could understand or imagine- Melis