She gets it from her momma

I always think it is amazing when Mother's Day or Father's Day comes around and suddenly, social media is lit up with positive, uplifting posts about parents. It makes me smile to see the old photos, the heartwarming stories, and the love that is just pouring out of folks. Typically, social media is crushed with negativity and scapegoating.

As for me, I kind of fell silent this Mother's Day on social media. I wanted to soak in everything that was being said about parents. I wasn't mad at my mom, mother-in-law, grandma or aunt. I don't love them any less that day just because I enjoyed everyone's posts and waited to write something up of my own. (But you would be surprised how many people notice you didn't write something. Maybe I post too much! HAHA) However, I can't let the time pass without sharing with you about the woman who made me who I am.

I'll be totally straight up with you. I may have been a good kid growing up, but I know for my mom, I wasn't the easiest daughter to raise. Probably from day one, my mom and I were different from each other. I can almost guarantee you, I wasn't the little girl she probably had dreamed about having from the time she discovered she wanted to be a mom. I was rough, tumble, and loud. (I'm pretty much still all those things.) I didn't like dresses, having my hair fixed, or being without my basketball. Now, that's not to say I didn't like girl things. I carried around a Cabbage Patch doll, and I had some barbies and a few My Little Ponies that ran around with Rainbow Brite. Yet, I was drawn to GI Joes, Thundercats, and Voltron. I can only imagine what she thought as she watched my GI Joes riding around on pretty pink and white ponies with pictures on their rears.

As I got older, the difference in our personalities became more pronounced. However, she immersed herself in my world--basketball. She went to games and learned to do the books and the score board. She has eaten thousands of concession stand dinners, chaperoned too many kids in hotel rooms (where she saw a dead cat under a bed--seriously, an awesome story for another time), and washed far too many sweaty pairs of socks and jerseys. Late nights, fast food meals, and long bus rides were her life from the time I was in 6th grade until I graduated from Piedmont.

How she dealt with a kid that was so different from who she was, is beyond me. Sometimes, as a parent, I talk to the boys and the difference in how we each think blows me away. Of course, it's to be expected because of the gender difference. One would think that with us being women, it would be more similar. It wasn't. I am sure she thought I was insane not just because of my interests, but in the way that I thought.

You see, my mom is an awesome woman. She always dresses nice, wears make-up, fixes her hair and is sweet to everyone. I rarely dress like anything other than a hobo. The closest I get to make-up is Chapstick. I haven't had a hair cut in probably two years. And sweet? Let's just say, I cherish the people who think that I am remotely anything like that. My mom has always cared what people think about her and I usually don't think twice about it. For the most part, my mom knows what to say to make people feel better. I have been told I am too critical. She invests in relationships and I struggle to keep them going. I felt like she always had a handle on my sister and I. She was the ultimate chaos coordinator. Me, on the other hand....I am just treading water every day.

I know she would never in a million years believe this, but she really seemed to have it all together. Looking back over those years when she was dealing with me and my craziness as a teenager, I know I frustrated her to no end, but I felt like she dealt with it and then moved on. By the next day she was treating me like normal again. Here I have elementary age children and I feel like I drag the same feelings around for days. How did she do that?

In all honesty, my mom and I aren't as different as I would like to believe. We both love our children with every fiber of our beings. She is the one who taught me how to do that. She and I have sacrificed a lot for our kids. She gave up other career opportunities where she would have had a retirement account and insurance with a more impressive salary, to work at a Christian school with hardly any benefits except a discount on tuition (that was reduced practically each year). I learned everything I know about sacrifice from her and my dad. Her sacrifice was more obvious to me though because I saw it every day. I feel her pain now that I have experienced a similar type of sacrifice. Neither of us are super awesome housekeepers. I think we both live by the motto, "Spending time with our kids > than an organized home." We both love people. I can remember from a very young age watching my mom love on her friends. I always thought she was a great person to have on your side. She still is. While I am not the best at cultivating relationships with others, I do love people. I have always tried to do that through my careers through the years. We both get hangry. Never was a truer sentence written. Let's be honest ladies......there aren't many of us who don't get that way right? The similarities don't end there. We have the same horse hair that is so thick that you will die of heat exhaustion in the summer. We both love mushrooms and traveling. Neither of us like scary movies or change.

Honestly, everything you see about me that is good, came from being taught by her and my dad. She invested every ounce of herself into raising my sister and I. If you think highly of me at all, it is because of the prayers, tears, and emotional struggle that she went through every day. Thank you is not sufficient for her.

The neat thing though? She learned from her mom too. I get the benefit of learning from both of these women. I mean, how blessed is this girl? So many other women invested in my life in a positive way, aunts, great-aunts, great-grandmas, that when Mother's Day comes each year, I am reminded that I am also to be this for my kids, nieces, and nephews. They leave such a legacy and lead by example. Hopefully, one day, I will get to hear my kids say the same thing about me and I will simply tell them, "I get it from my momma!"

Happy Mother's Day from the Chief Chaos Coordinator of the Cox Crew!

Marriage is a call to die

Ephesians 5:25 says, "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her." Do you know what the Scriptures tell us Christ did for the church? Well, it says it right there in the latter part of verse 25. He gave Himself for her. He gave his life. He died for her. I was reading Disciplines of a Godly Man a couple of years ago, and this quote stood out to me.

"Marriage is a call to die, and a man who does not die for his wife does not come close to the love to which he is called. Christian marriage vows are the inception of a lifelong practice of death, of giving over not only all you have, but all you are."

First of all, I highly recommend this book for all you fellas out there, and I have the hardback if anyone wants to borrow it. But you only get to borrow it if you want to be challenged with stuff like this. I mean, are you serious right here? When I got married, the challenge wasn't something like, don't forget to take out the trash occasionally. It wasn't tell your wife you love her sometimes. It wasn't let your wife control the remote every once in a while. It wasn't a command to put the toilet seat down or to clean your hair out of the bathtub or shower drain. Nope. None of that. It was...die. "Marriage is a call to die." Sounds pretty appealing, doesn't it? 

This is God's expectation, He could have picked any other example or analogy for how we should live our lives in relation to our wives, but the one He used is how God-in-the-flesh gave his life. He gave everything that he had and everything that He was for the church, the bride if Christ. How does a husband do that for his wife? I'm not sure I have the answer to that. Maybe if you read the book I recommended it will make some sense. What I know is that you have to think of her first. 

It's not something I've been great at over the years. I've always thought of me first, I think, and especially the first years of our marriage. I would make big deals out of silly stuff like getting to watch the college basketball game on TV. I was selfish in ways I'm not even going to talk about here. Sacrifice is not an easy thing. 

Let's take this one step further. Kids add another layer. I've talked about how much I enjoy doing radio for the basketball game. I was talking to a friend of mine about it the other day (it was good to see you Caleb!), and he said, "You really love it, don't you?" I told him I really enjoyed it for a number of reasons and that I'm passionate about it, and about doing it well. He's like me. If we're going to do something we're going to try to be the best. So, with that thought in mind, check this out...

You know what that is? That is my pride being crushed. That is dying. That is a schedule card that shows the games I will be on the radio. I thought my kids would be proud. That schedule card is on the kitchen floor to be trampled on, along with my heart and soul. I'm dead. (I should say that my wife and boys have been to many of the games I've been on radio and have listened in sometimes. And my boys have even joined me a couple of times, so they do support it.)

I'm being real here. It probably sounds silly, but it hurt a little, or a lot, for about 30 seconds. Then I remembered that it is not about me. This household that I am supposed to be leading has elements that are much more important than me. I can't focus on myself when those others need the attention, and support, and care. They need me to give my life. 

I want to reiterate, this is not something I'm good at. I have prayed countless times (Well, maybe it can be counted. Let's go with 387 times.) that God would show me that day, and every day what it means to die for my wife (and kids). What does that mean? It means my wife is more important than me. It means that her needs and wants and desires should come first. It means that she needs me to sacrifice for her. Marriage is a call to die.

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Philippians 3:12