Aim Carefully
A tribute to my mother-in-law
This year, my mom turns sixty. I’ll turn thirty.
But today, my mother-in-law turns fifty.
Time is beginning to feel real.
It’s sobering to watch the people who raised you enter new decades, moving further down a road you’ll walk yourself before long. It’s also deeply satisfying. They are living out what they spent decades building: big families, grandchildren, and friends who genuinely want to be with them.
Especially when you’re young, I think you should spend serious attention on where you’re actually aiming your life. What are the metrics to measure “success,” and when?
This isn’t another syrupy self-help sermon. I just want to take a moment to honor my mother-in-law on her big day. She’s remarkable, and you should know why.
They say that when you’re looking for a woman to marry, look for a mom you admire.
I did. Her name’s Amanda.
Alongside her remarkable husband—my father-in-law Dan who deserves a lot of words I’ll share with you in the future—she raised and homeschooled eight children. She’s a paramedic and community midwife who delivered both of our sons—and hundreds of other babies for friends and neighbors.
She’s also a gifted writer. She just finished A Time To Be Born, which is funny, profound, and wholesome in a way that’s hard to find anymore. (If you enjoy James Herriot, you’d love this.)
Her fourth son, Christopher, was born with severe autism. As a young child, he was non-verbal. She determined to give 100% to educate, love, and believe in him. She spent hours a day working with him, looking for clues, praying for little keys. Every night she’d put him to bed and sing “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” One day, at age six, he miraculously formed a simple sentence and said it out loud. And then another, and another! But I won’t spoil the whole story…
He learned to speak, read, write, and express himself beautifully. Today he’s literally reaching millions with a message of hope for his condition—for whatever condition we have, and I’m increasingly convinced we each do have one.
(Watch this video of him singing that same song he heard every night as a child, and sharing his testimony in front of thousands of people at our thanksgiving festival last year. There wasn’t a dry eye in the whole building.)
Once, while helping me move some old black & white family photographs at my grandparents’ cottage, he paused and asked: “I wonder if the world used to be black and white back in the old days, when these people were living.”
That’s Kippy. Always got a fresh take on what the rest of us overlook.
She is his rock.
She’s a rock for all of us.
She cares a great deal about great environments. Her home is beautiful. But I’d say her particular gift is the “software” I wrote about—bringing people together: holidays, dinners, family traditions. She has an incredible eye for making moments and memories out of the little things.
Every family needs glue. She fills the role exceptionally well—almost too well :)
Helen is the oldest of her siblings (all brothers except for one baby sister) and was indispensable to her mom. I knew marrying her would be a big transition. It’s hard to let your first daughter go—I can imagine. My in-laws have done it with such grace. But I have to remind them sometimes: they didn’t lose her, they adopted a son.
Mom is one of the many reasons I am very rich.
Not in money or things, but in the most valuable currency : relationships of love, with people who would go through anything with you. And you would do the same for them.
That’s what aiming carefully produces. Not a perfect life. But a full one, measured in people and a purpose, not possessions. Do that every day for a long time, and you’ll consider yourself rich.
I love you, Mom. Happy birthday. ❤️
—Isaac
P.S. If you’re interested, I highly recommend her weekly newsletter where she writes to her daughters (and a few thousand others) and chronicles Christopher’s journey.
Yes—you are truly fortunate to have a mother-in-law like Amanda. I will say, she exemplifies the word meek. Loving, caring, knowledgeable, and compassionate, and at the exact same time fervent, passionate, surgical, and immediate.
I have massive respect for her. Selfless and giving, all the while nurturing and caring—what a gift.
Well, Isaac,
This was the first thing I got to do on my 50th birthday— read your letter. I already read and enjoy your newsletters, but this blessed me beyond words, and what a surprise.
And you’re right: I didn’t lose a daughter when she married you—I gained a beloved son. You have truly been that to me.
Thank you so much,
Mom