I luff my ma and pa

mapamapamapamapa.

They're not your typical american household parents. They didn't tuck my in every night and kiss me on my forehead, they didn't tell me they love me every single day of my life, they never let me have my way even when I cried and howled the house down. They didn't abstain from physical punishment just because its againsts my supposed rights.

But they've exemplified James' words: Let ye not be hearers of the word, but doers. Their love is not love that is spoken verbally, but of action. My mother stays up with me into the wee hours of the morning as I do my portfolio, berating me to go to sleep. She writes me an email that encourages me in a way that no one else can. My father wakes up to come find out why I'm up at three in the morning writing an essay, turns on the aircon for me and gets me a cup of water after I tell him, no I haven't drank any, and he replies, you're gonna die.

Then there are the everyday occurances. My mother cooks and cleans, when I know for one she detests having to keep a household constantly spick and span, she wrote so in her diary back when she was in university. She buys me things I don't ask for and the things she knows I love. My father wakes up at 6 to cut fruits for the family every morning. He chauffers us around without much complaint, runs errands, prays for us, talks with us, dances with me.

And what do I do for them? Not much. The little I do is to love and obey them as best as I can. I thank them for exhorting me to know the one true God and for bringing me into not just our family, but the family of God. I thank them from the bottom of my heart.