My mother's birthday would have been today and she would have been 96 years-old.
Whenever I doubt God and his care for me, I think of my mom, Frieda M. Thorp, and I'm reminded of his constant love and care. My mother was one of a kind and deserves mention because how she lived her life is an inspiration for anybody who draws a short straw in stuff that happens to you. As it says in the Bible, she ran the race and she won. She's now sitting in the heavenly stands and cheering us on.
My mom was born in Michigan's Thumb and was part of a farm family with 12 kids. Life was tough and hard. Her parents died when she and her brothers and sisters were young. The older siblings kept the younger ones together and they continued living.
They braved it through the Depression and all the life and death struggles that were part of the time. And then there was World War II. Listening to her talk about that period was beyond my comprehension.
She met my dad, Claude H. Thorp, during that time. A short time after I was born, he flew the coop and never came back. She never gave up.
Today, as I look back on her life I've learned the importance of being tenancious and focused on what's important. I've never had to fight for survival like she did, but if I do, I can look to her example.
She was God-sent and special. She knew how to love unconditionally. She knew Jesus Christ and had a personal relationship with him.
Father God, thank-you for picking her to be my mom.