Parental Appreciation.

Parents: Can't live with them, can't live without them.  I think it's safe to say that the routes in which relationships between parents and children take are notably inconsistent in the fact that they are steadily evolving and being viewed in different lights.  I know that my relationship with my parents has been a true testament to this theory of mine, at least in the small amount of life experience that I have gained over the past 20 years.  In all this, I also can't help but notice and find amusing that much like the events of history, the patterns of this relationship I have with my mom and dad is what I have observed so far to be a repeating cycle.

Like most little girls, up until about the age of 7 I found my parents to be the absolute coolest.  I rarely stopped holding my dad's hand or sitting in my mom's lap, excluding obvious situations like school, sports, and a number of other independent activities that simply would not function properly with a full grown human at my side.  

Then, set in my awkward phase.  It was a terrible time for me in terms of appearance, due to my lack of knowledge in how to tame my wavy, frizzy hair... my older sister even took it upon herself to label me with the endearing nickname, "smush-bush" because of the state of my hair and the fact that I was still working on growing into my nose (by this point I'm sure some fabulous imagery is happening for you).  Not only were my looks shocking, in a bad way, at this stage of life, but this stage also ushered in my pre-teen years, then extending into my teenage (high school) years.  We all know what this means: sassy, angsty, attitude.

At this point I viewed myself as far too sensational to be seen with my parents, and more often times than not was convinced that despite my age (it's just a number, right?) and life experience, I was, in fact, far more wise and cultured.  As a result, I rarely listened to things they had to say, or rules they enforced because in my mind, as cliche teenager as this may sound, they just didn't understand anything I was going through- extremely dramatic, I know.

Now, as I am just barely emerging from my teen years, I like to think that I have discovered some new truths about the many things that I have been blessed with.  One of those blessings being the extraordinary parents that have been a constant in my life and raised me in a way that clearly points to their foundation in Christ.

I'm beginning to find myself back at stage one: thinking my parents are the absolute coolest (omit the part about me constantly holding my dad's hands and sitting on my mom's lap- it's just not practical, or normal for that matter anymore).  I've come to appreciate them for who they are and everything they stand for, whether it be in temporary things or eternal things.  I mean, seriously, the majority of people don't get to say that in the 70's their mom played guitar with The Drifters, and their dad took Elivs' suit to the cleaners at the spry young age of a high school boy while working at the Macon Hilton, and together have gone hiking in the Swiss Alps, met the President of the United States, and have raised three incredibly different, yet complicatedly similar daughters well.

The list goes on and on, and I am always surprised when they tell me another story of the sort, because it truly seems like a never ending archive.  But in reality, while I do find myself amazed by their countless adventures, I am even more in awe of their eternal perspective, love for the Lord, and the way in which they have raised me with wisdom, prayer, my best interest placed above theirs, and just plain joy.

So thanks, Douglas and Elizabeth Williams for being the coolest and best parents out there, and for putting up with my childish, dramatic, and foolish ways.  Keep doing what you do!  I love you both a whole lot and hope to be as good of a parent as each of you are to me one day.  Lastly, sorry if I made you cry, Mom (another great quality of my mom: she is very tenderhearted).