Today memories of my life as a Mom keep swirling around in my head. I’m purposely pulling out those memories I have treasured deep in my heart. As I examine those memories, not all of them represent my finest moments.

There was a time a thirteen-year-old Adam worked backstage at a “The Promise” performance at the State Kremlin Palace Theatre in Moscow. The actor playing Jesus had long, gorgeous curly blonde hair. (Yes, Jesus was a blonde—NOT.) after the performance, Adam bounded to my side and said, “I want to grow my hair like Jesus!” Bluntly, I replied, “Once you act more like Jesus, you can grow your hair like Jesus.” (I used the word Jesus, doesn’t that make it a more biblical answer?)

Chief among my many failures as a home-school mom were my words to Corrie as she struggled with chemistry. My exact words, “I don’t care what grade you get, just finish and pass chemistry. And then we’ll have a book-burning party.” I may have said the exact words to Adam when he took chemistry. Not one of my finest hours.

I remember dragging Adam to the bathroom to wash his mouth out with soap after he back-talked me. I suddenly realized we no longer used bar soap. So I squirted soft soap on my hand and rubbed it around his mouth. Adam may have blown soap bubbles out of his mouth and possibly his nose for several hours.

I mistakenly thought that things would get easier as my children grew older. No, the problems get more complicated. After college, Corrie worked overseas in a remote village on the backside of nowhere. She emailed me, talking about another worker who had expressed an attraction to her. My reply, “Girl, you are probably the only girl in the village who regularly bathes and washes your hair. Of course, he’d be attracted to you.” Yes, nothing to do with her gorgeous green eyes, beautiful smile, and great love for the Lord. Hopefully, I mentioned those things further along in the conversation.

And, of course, I dragged my children off to live in another country when they were ages eight and twelve. It’s a wonder they still speak to me, much less turned out to be reasonably normal functioning adults.

Thankfully, my kids taught me so many lessons along the way. Raising them forced me to rely on God and the power of prayer – even a quick “Help me, God!” Rather than replying to their questions with outright laughter or sharp words, I learned to say, “Have you prayed about this?” Hmmm, had I prayed about this? I realized that I couldn’t expect something from them that I wasn’t applying to myself. Children quickly notice if we are just “talking the talk, and not walking the walk.” If our behavior on Sunday differs from our behavior the rest of the week, our kids will notice the discrepancy.

Being a mom is one of the greatest gifts that God gave me. To quote 3 John 4, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” Watching my children walk in obedience to God’s will is the greatest joy of my life.

Corrie and Adam, being your mom is genuinely one of my greatest joys. Watching as you teach your children to walk in God’s truth makes my heart sing.

And I confess, sometimes, when you express how frustrated you are with the behavior of one of your kids, I think, “Payback!”

Love you both!