Momma's day

Today is the day my family is joyfully reminded of God’s love for us in a special way. 

We are reminded that He loved us so much, He created Marion Linda Lyons Dehan, brought her forth on this day 61 years ago from her momma’s womb, and shaped her from that day forward into the woman she is this day.  The woman who I hope to be just like when I grow up.  

I, being the introspective over-thinking analyst type, have been thinking about my Momma and a birthday post and how I could possibly begin to try and capture a tiny drop of the essence of her beauty and bottle it up in writing here.  

As my thoughts of who my momma is and what she has shown and taught me all through my life brought tears to my eyes, I realized how very much I hope to be even a little bit like she is, for she is the holiest woman and best mother that I know. 

God has written a particularly exquisite Love Story in the pages of her life book, and it should be passed down to future generations.  To see the face of Jesus in my momma’s life is inevitable, and the world needs to see His face as much as possible.  

I want to be like her not because she is perfect. No one is perfect. I want to be like her because she recognizes so clearly her need for He Who is perfection. She seeks constantly to empty herself and allow Christ to fill her up with Himself.  

Her greatest desire is to get to Heaven and to bring as many souls as she possibly can along with her. She knows the secret to happiness and has proclaimed the secret to myself and to countless others in her words, but abundantly more through the way in which she lives the moments God has given her.  

She does not live for herself and has not since I first met her almost 27 years ago.  She has sought Christ in everything, and has found Him.  And where there was not love to be found, she brought it with her and put it there.  

I remember kids in my class at school, at a time when I was much smaller and frecklier, gravitated toward her.  Kids that weren’t even my friends loved her, because she radiates love.  

It just flowed right out of her and landed on anyone in her path.  And kids know when adults mean it and when they don’t, and they knew my mom loved them. She desired heaven for them all, and showed them for whatever time she had with them that Jesus loves them.

Whenever Ella has a moment when it’s very clear she needs some extra love and attention, I find myself wishing my Momma was there to give it to her, because she knows how to better than I do, and I know Ella would feel Jesus in my Mom’s arms, just like I always have.  

My Momma and I have had our normal mother daughter moments of fights and what not, but those moments are very faded in my memory. They are not what I think of when I think of my mom.  What I remember is her singing in the morning that was lovely and full of praises to Jesus. 

I remember her taking us on long bike rides, and driving us all over kingdom come to get to our activities, and being greeted after school by the heavenly aromas of the baked goodies she made just because she wanted us to have something sweet to come home to.

I remember her dancing in the kitchen, her laughter, her rollers and jogging outfits (sorry mom, I had to)

her joy in being with her husband and children

the way she loves and cares for little ones so perfectly

I'll always remember how we both went into raptures over a sunset or a particularly amazing summer cloud and how she always knew just how long to hold a hug for.

I will never ever forget how she showed me how love all of my life, but must especially what loving like Jesus loves us really means, when I watched as she set aside her life to care for her own beloved Momma.  

Most of all, I remember her at Mass. I remember all of the prayer groups she started at our schools so that she could invite other moms to pray for their families and kids along with her. 

I'll remember that she never once stopped pointing to Jesus and leading me, by her constant example, to the Cross, where all is made whole again.  

So, on this day, I celebrate a love that I have known since before I drew my first breath.  I celebrate the greatest prayer-warrior I know, the holiest, most thoughtful, selfless, humble and beautiful woman I know.  

Happy, happy Birthday, Mommalita.  I love you more than these words can tell you, and I am so indescribably grateful to our Heavenly Father for creating you and making you my Mom.  I know He loves me when I think of you.  

Happy Birthday, Momma! I love love love you!