I never wanted to become like my mother.

My mother… who whenever she would wake me up for either school or church would have everything ready for me: my clothes (when I was in prep and elementary), my breakfast and my baon. I imagine she had to wake up at the break of dawn to get all those things ready. Yet, there I was hating her for pulling me out of bed. I remember saying to myself, “When I grow up, I won’t be this kind of a mother.”

My mother… who would push and nag me to do things I never wanted to do: read books, take piano classes, sit in choir rehearsals, take a summer acting workshop, spend three consecutive summers learning how to swim… all these things that took away my time in front of the television watching my cartoons on TV. I remember saying to myself, “When I grow up, I won’t be this kind of a mother.”

My mother… who would share her burdens with other godly women asking them to pray for me. Isn’t this gossip?  I remember saying to myself, “When I grow up, I won’t be this kind of a mother.”

My mother… who when she was sick, would still get up from bed and take care of herself.

My mother… who works very hard yet spends her money for us rather than for herself.

My mother… who worked two jobs when my father had none.

My mother… who patiently shops in the palengke and finds the same clothes that costs 3x more in the department store.

My mother… who is always a step ahead of me and my brother. Need something? Ask Mama. She knows where it is or how to get it.

My mother… the woman who sat me down when I was 4 years old and introduced me to Jesus and has faithfully modeled what it looks like to follow Him.

My mother. I now realize why I never wanted to be like her. I can never be like her. She’s too much of a woman and I can never be even half the woman she is! Not on my own strength. I am thankful for my Mama!

Love you, Momsy! Toodootoods. Yadigidig-digidig.

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