Weak Knees

As I slouched in my purple cushioned chair, my black-and-white-stripe DC shoes on the bar of the chair in front of me and my knees higher than my head, Pastor Jim announced that the students from the School of Supernatural Ministry were going to be giving prophetic words today. I sat up straight in my chair. These six students came and lined up in a row at the front: a tall, dark-haired man in his 30's, a woman with red, medium length red hair in her 40's, a sharp-looking 20-something with curly hair and a huge grin, a short little giggly 18-year-old, and two older women with passion-gone-crazy in their eyes. Tagged on the end, however, was a 5'2” 49-year-old woman that didn't look a day older than 35, wearing a shirt of bright yellow and designer jeans, with shoes to match. The glory of God seemed to emanate from her face, her ear-to-ear smile forcing my lips wide and my eyes soft as I watched.
This is my mother.
As the students were each given the mic as they received words from God, they began to minister. Some of the students spoke to everyone at the same time in a sort-of preaching fashion, while others had specific congregation members stand up as they gave a fresh word to them from the Lord. The 20-something, Jack, pointed out a young woman in the back of the sanctuary, who stood up, almost surprised that she had been picked. I turned around in my seat, looking back and forth from Jack to this woman as he spoke. Her expression went from a closed-lips stare to a near-teary-eyed smile in moments, and as they finished I noticed a shiver shooting down my back. A “whoah” escaped my lips, followed by a sinister chuckle that seemed to spur on the excitement of the woman next to me.
After all of the students shared, it was finally my sweet Mommy's turn. She took hold of the mic, still smiling, gazing toward the sound booth. “Yeah,” she said, affirming the other speakers, “yeah.” She paused, exhaling off the mic. “So this is for Dan Hammel, back there in the sound booth.” She gave a chuckle. “I have a question – do you have any metal in your body?”
Dan nodded. “Yeah, in my knees.”
“Whoah!” I said, raising my voice.
“Oh, wow,” my mom said, her smile growing larger, “Well that...fits pretty well,” she said, “because the verse I got for you was in Hebrews 12, where it says 'Strengthen your feeble arms and your weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.' And I feel like God does want to heal your body, but he also wants to strengthen you so that you can stand up under pressure and against the attacks of the enemy.” Dan just nodded and smiled.
“Whoooaaah!”
As she handed off the mic to Pastor Jim, the audience all stood up and gave the students a round of applause. I was applauding them, but mostly I was applauding my mommy.
I love her so much.
Growing up in a highly spiritual family has always been a huge blessing for me. Even when I was going through my rebellious stage as a teenager, there was never a question in my mind about the reality of God and who He was. I knew he still loved me and cared about me, even if the only interaction I had with him was praying that he'd help me win at my Star Wars computer game.
My mom was the one that kept my brother and I afloat spiritually. While I was out with my “policy debate friends” doing drugs and partying, she was losing sleep praying for me, crying her eyes out and not knowing why. She was my anchor, my true-north.
She was there with me while I was screaming in my room, “Fuck God! Fuck you, I don't fucking want anything to do with a God that would let people die!” She was there for me while I would spend days depressed, wanting nothing to do with life and getting lost in the world of Final Fantasy VIII. She was there by me when I came back six months early from an internship in Chile, having deeply wounded a family there, resulting in me no longer wanting anything from life. She loved me through it all, and continues to speak my destiny to me over coffee and cereal every morning.
Sometimes in church I'll go up and give my mommy a kiss and a big hug, telling her she's the greatest mommy that ever lived. I think it inspires people. And even if it doesn't, I could care less.