"You'll be like your parents one day."
When I was younger, this was the ultimate curse. How dare you? I, an angsty 14-year-old, am so much better.
Yet here I am, 19 years old and becoming more and more like my parents each day. My 14-year-old self would be ashamed, and there are plenty of moments when I think "Oh no. I'm becoming my mother," when I do something. Do I want to be exactly like my parents? No. But I look forward to following their example in some aspects of my life.
They are hard working.
My dad owns his own plumbing business. He has worked hard, day in and day out, to provide for our family. He takes pride in his work, being extraordinarily thorough and honest in it. My mom is working on getting her degree in education while simultaneously working as an instructive assistant in an elementary school. They are the parents of six, a job in itself that requires a great deal of hard work and dedication.
They are courageous.
It takes a lot of nerve to step out, leaving your entire past and history behind, to pursue the truth. My parents did that. They left Mormonism and turned to Christianity, and have never turned back. It was not an easy process, and sometimes it's still difficult, but they were brave enough to do it. They are living testimonies of courage and strength.
They are their own people.
My parents are not defined by others. They are not afraid to be their weird, passionate, quirky selves, because they know that, in the words of Dr. Seuss, “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.” While this does not mean they are careless in their actions, they do find their identities in Christ and who the Lord has made them to be, which includes loving and caring. They are cautious of how their actions and words can impact others, but they are also unapologetically themselves.
They are compassionate.
I have yet to meet someone with hearts bigger than those of my parents. They hurt for the hurting, each in their own ways. Their lives of service to those around them on a daily basis has shown me their hearts are bigger than one could even understand. They serve in small things, in small acts and words, rather than in ways that demand attention. They do not need recognition, even though they deserve it. They do not serve to help themselves, but to fill their compassionate hearts.
As I grew up, I resented the idea of being like my parents. Now, as I reflect on them, I am so incredibly grateful for even the idea that I could be like them. Growing up, each of these qualities was taught to me, indirectly and directly. If I could ever be half the person that either of my parents are, I would be beyond fortunate.
