4 min 32 sec: app reading time
May 11, 2025
I've always been in complete awe of mothers.
They somehow juggle a thousand things at once, shower their families with love, and still have time to give you that look (you know the one) when you've forgotten to take out the trash for the third time.
Reflecting on my own Mother and everything she did for my sister and me while working alongside my dad, a Pastor, I realized how incredibly strong she had to be. She would come home and prepare meals for us after school. She prayed with me every night before I went to sleep. Although she wasn’t a talkative person, her love was steady.
She was the soft face to my Dad's loving discipline. Both were loving people, but I knew my Dad was the one who would discipline me if something went wrong. I never in my entire life heard my Mom say one word against my Dad. She was a strong woman with her ideas, but shy and loyal to my Dad and our family, the core of her heart. In every church my Dad Pastored, she played the piano, directed the children’s choir, and prepared Christmas and Easter programs I will never forget. She was an Associate Pastor without a title. My Dad and Mom visited members together, and my Mom would bake cookies to take to the people.
My Mom knew how to stretch a “dollar” (Argentinian peso) and somehow make meals appear out of thin air, ensuring we never went to bed hungry. We were not wealthy. My Dad was a Pastor, and my Mom mended my clothes so they would last longer. She was nothing short of a miracle worker, though I didn't realize it until years later. Sometimes I would find her knitting quietly and ask her, "Mom, what are you doing?" She would smile and answer my question.
My Mom was a woman of prayer. Her faith in God was like a rock. I will never forget getting up in the morning, walking by the kitchen to the bathroom, and seeing my Mom on her knees praying daily. She read her Bible, had her devotional, and prayed by herself while my Dad did the same. Then, we always had prayer together as a family before going to school or church.
I remember the day I called her to inform her of my unwanted divorce. She cried on the phone and said, "Mijito (My dear son in Argentina), forgive her, don't hold grudges against her, trust God, and keep being a good Dad to the four kids." Those words are sealed in my memory to this date.
She was not a "preacher" like my Dad. She was short on her statements, but never missed a chance to point me to faith and God's greater plans for my life. My Mom knew something about loyalty to people, family, and God that I carry in my bones.
When my Dad was aging and people kept encouraging her to place him in a retirement center so she could rest, she told me, "No, I will never do that!" I said, "But Mom, you need to sleep. You need to rest! You’ll get sick, then we’ll face a double challenge!" My logic didn’t convince her. Her firm and loving answer was the same: "I will be next to him until he dies or I die."
My Dad passed to his rest at age 96 while sleeping a "siesta" next to my Mom on a Friday afternoon. Nothing could be more meaningful than for my Dad to go to his rest on a Friday, before sundown, as they observed the Sabbath on Saturday every week, as I do myself to this date. When my Mom woke up on that Friday afternoon, my Dad had passed to his rest. She called me. I flew to Argentina to be with her during her time of grief, with our family, and to perform my Dad's funeral.
Having grown up with parents who never hinted at divorce is a gift I treasure to this date.
I could write for hours about my dear Mom.
I have a strong inner hint that God blessed my Mom for being faithful, loyal to my Dad, and family in spite of the last difficult years next to my Dad. She grew up in a German family without much role modeling of what relational love was all about. Her parents owned a large farm, and work consumed the hours of their day. They were good people, attended church faithfully, but relational love, as I came to experience it with my parents, was not in the air.
My Dad and Mom's marriage was simply amazing. To this day, I still process the dynamics of their marriage. They complemented each other. They were far from perfect, but they loved each other, and I knew it.
After my Dad passed away, my Mom moved to the US and was blessed to spend time with my sister and me. She was also able to spend time with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. My four kids had been in Argentina for several years, living in the same location while studying Medicine. In her last days of life and consciousness, she praised God in our conversations, never in religious tones but from the heart.
Both my parents were deeply rooted in their faith, but they never forced it on me through indoctrination. Perhaps that's why, to this day, although I am profoundly grounded in God, I remain somewhat allergic to religion. My parents were faithful Seventh-day Adventists, but they were never pushy, judgmental, or difficult to deal with because of their religious convictions. My Mom was always soft, loving, kind, and even-tempered. God shone in her life.
She went to her rest in peace with her perennial smile.
My Mom's legacy is enormous.
Every time I talk about how amazing my Mom was, I often hear the other person saying, "Yep, mine too!"
I am honored to hear all these stories about mothers who are somehow playful and loving while still being tough as nails when necessary. Mothers who work and change diapers. Mothers who do their best under tough circumstances. Mothers who seem to have energy and time to do what I could never do. I remember with love and respect my ex-wife and how she multitasked during the day at home while being a working mom, busy at church on weekends, and was the heartbeat of our family trips. Without her, meals would have been a challenge, deciding what to wear for the six of us, and planning various activities that kept us together, having fun, hiking, camping, or traveling with a tight budget - nothing would have happened.
It's as if Moms have it all within them to carry the burdens of life like no one else does.
Happy Mother's Day to you, whether you are a married, a single Mom, a Grandmother, a great-grandmother, an aunt, a caregiver, or a woman who cares for people and blesses them with the love that only a Mom, a woman, can display!
You offer us a unique perspective on the feminine manifestation of God's love that only you can provide. In a culture where often power, misogyny, and relational disruption wound us, you are the silent hero who points us to God.
Thank you!
With you on your journey,
Pastor Harold