I’ve heard my whole life about Mother in Laws. The mean, husband siding, jerks who want to eat your marriage with their fire breathing throat of glory. When I prayed for my husband before I knew who he was, I didn’t pray for my mother in law. I didn’t think much about her except to consider that she might hate me, and hoped not.
Nope, I wasn’t praying for her. But she was praying for me. She often tells me she knew my husband would only fall in love once, she said she prayed prayer after prayer that when he fell, it would be for the right girl. She loves telling me the story and I love hearing it because she always says that her prayers were answered in full. Whats funny is that we have known each other since I was 10 years old. She was my Awana teacher when she was still pregnant with my (now) little sister. She was my Sunday school teacher (whenever I went to Sunday school) when I was in high school. We’ve known each other a very long time — most of my life — and yet we had no idea the significant friendship that would arise later.
In high school I think we both were assured that we were most definitely not cut from the same cloth. I was loud, attention seeking, and everywhere at once. She was quiet, steady paced, and so wise. We didn’t spend much time together, which I tell myself was by the Lord’s design because if I don’t say that, I have to mourn for the time I’ve missed.
All of that aside, 5 and a half years ago, the friendship began. If you ask her, she’ll say she loved me from the moment I ran to fling my arms around her. I loved her from the moment I decided Lane was the one. But neither of us knew the road ahead of us. I’d like to say we were blissfully ignorant of what we would weather together.
Fast forward to a month after my wedding when Lane had just gone to war and we weary travelers arrived home, empty, and full of doubt, that was when I started spending a lot of my free time with my Mom-in-law. She heard my fears and answered them, and shared her own. We comforted each other to the best of our abilities. But sometimes, when things are just so crappy you can’t breathe for the smell, you have to find release. We did this with laughter. This mixture of liquid iron tears and sea-salted laughter created one of the strongest friendships I have had to date.
Four years since then and we have found more similarities. We have the exact same wit, which our husbands think is cute — but by no means funny. Thats ok, we think we’re pretty hilarious.
We share a similar style, and by share I mean sometimes I raid her closet, or we get together to find that we match — unintentionally.
Whenever I’m having a bad day, or if I need to get something off of my chest, she is there for me, listening, praying, consoling.
We have shared our deep hearts about war, child rearing, politics, friendships, family, food, and fun.
Sometimes people say I even look like her. (but I also look identical to my mom now, so I guess it’s setting)
She holds my vulnerability, my marriage, me, sacred.
I could ask for no better friend.
I deny all Mother- in- law stats. Mine proved them moot and I hope yours does too. She is more than an every-day miracle. She is notable, special, and good.