Whenever I talk about my parents there is a gigantic chance of a lump forming in my throat or tears sneaking out of the corner of my eye. They have, and continue to sacrifice so much for my and my siblings. When I think about them, I think about how they were once in my shoes. They had their future in front of them, filled with dreams and plans and the choice to pursue worldly gain or seek after something more eternal. I am grateful they chose eternity. I am grateful that they chose to raise 6 kids in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
I am grateful that my dad worked hard, sometimes taking on extra weekend or night jobs so that my mom could stay home. I am grateful that my mom put aside her college and career goals to stay home with 6 young kids and teach them at home.
I am thankful that they always showed us what a real marriage looked like - with love, passion, and commitment but also with frustration and struggle. I am thankful that they allowed the testimony of Christ living in them to pour over into us, so that we could see that God was living, active and real.
My parents continue to be a source of strength and discipleship for me, even though I am no longer under their roof. I cherish the sweet conversations with my mother, learning and gleaning wisdom. I seek opportunity to speak with and ask advice from my father, realizing he is far more knowledgable on my many subjects than I ever will be.
(Here comes that lump.) I don't mean to be cliche, but the following statement is true. Without their teaching, disciplining and encouragement I am not sure what kind of person I would be today. At the very least I know I would be a woman with many regrets. Thankfully I don't have to dwell on that thought because I know that God in His wisdom had always planned for me to be born to these two lovely people. I pray that one day my children can speak as highly of me as I feel about my parents.