My mom and I have shared many special moments throughout the years. Several of those memories have been made as we travel to women’s events where I minister. While my mom fondly remembers days of tea rooms and trellises, a favorite memory of mine occurred recently in the Nashville airport.

Mom and I were preparing to load a plane headed back to Houston from Nashville and I decided to go to the restroom before we left. My mom quickly reminded me that I would not have time because we were due for boarding any minute and the restroom was two gates down from ours. I found this rather humorous, knowing that no matter how old I get, my mom continues to monitor my bathroom breaks. Promising to return quickly, I jumped from my seat and headed down the terminal.

Upon finishing my business in the restroom, I reached for the toilet paper and found myself in a most peculiar position. Unbeknownst to me, as I had been unwrapping the toilet paper from the roll, the long strings of my sweatshirt had mysteriously become entangled in the toilet paper holder. The more I tried to free myself, the tighter I was bound to the toilet paper roll. With my head now glued to the wall above the paper holder, I did what any 40-something-year-old would do. From that stall in the airport bathroom, I began yelling at the top of my lungs, “Mom! Mom! MUHHH-THERRRRRR!”

Amazingly, no matter how old a child grows, a mother instinctively hears their cry. This episode was no exception. With the speed of Superwoman, my mom sprinted past two gates, burst into the bathroom and screamed, “What is the matter with you?”

“I am hung in the toilet paper roll holder” I cried. With a pause that seemed to last for eternity, she managed to utter her only word. “WHAT?”

“You heard me,” I quickly retorted. “The strings of my shirt are wound up in the toilet paper roll holder and I cannot get loose.”

“Well, just open the door,” my mother suggested. Obviously, she did not realize the tug of war that had ensued inside that stall. The toilet paper roll holder had won, and I could not move forward, backward or sideways. I certainly could not reach the door. At this point, I could only imagine the janitors finding us at midnight as they put out their “wet floor” signs. The only alternative was for my mother to crawl under the door of the stall.

With the determination of a bull, my mother, the epitome of a Southern Bell, hiked up her skirt and started sliding under the bathroom door. After what seemed like hours of wiggling and squeezing, she completed her mission and met me face to face with a warning unlike any I had heard from her before: “Don’t you ever do this again.” We stared at each other in disbelief, and then began to laugh uncontrollably. After freeing me from the toilet paper holder, we quickly made our way back to the gate and caught our flight just in time for our trip home.

Whether our memories are “Hallmark” or hysterical, this Mother’s Day we have the opportunity to honor our Mom once again. For many of us, this is an easy task. For some of us, this is where we get “stuck.” The disappointments of yesterday often bring resentment and pain.

This Mother’s Day, give yourself a gift. Allow the Holy Spirit to begin healing and renewing the part of you that has been wounded by old hurts from your past. Let go of disappointments, hurts and unfulfilled dreams that the relationship with your mom never provided and trust God to “make all things new” in your heart and life. He is the God who is able to “restore the years that the locust has eaten,” and He will fill you up with His love that never disappoints.

For all of you who are moms, Happy Mother’s Day! You have the most difficult, yet rewarding job on the planet. We salute you! And this Mother’s Day, I celebrate my biggest fan, my loudest cheerleader, and the one who comes to my rescue even to this day–my mom!

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