I’ve been thinkin’ for a couple of weeks now about what I wanted to say to you in this letter. Mother’s Day is always so interesting. It’s supposed to be a time when motherhood is celebrated and enjoyed over the bond between daughter/son and mother. We have always gone about the formality of Mother’s Day, but I think some years it may have been hard.
Ours is a hard history; one that doesn’t create warm and fuzzies in the heart. Ours is a broken history; one that left us needing healing. And, though I know the Healer, there were times I didn’t think it would happen. It has begun, though, and here’s how I know…
I know that you longed for me even when I came to be in less than ideal circumstances.
I know that you wanted me to have the childhood memories that you had, though making it happen was always a little out of reach.
I know that you tried; I do know, Momma.
I know that you settled quickly for what seemed “happiness” in hopes that it really would last for us.
I know that you pulled yourself together more times than I know just to get out of bed in the morning.
I know that you scrambled and scrounged and begged so that Little Sister and I would have…I know.
I know that you know you made mistakes; no one really needed to point that out to you. We just did, and you took it from us.
I know that you suffered in the nights, crying into a pillow gone limp, and then got up early to try and put on make-up for the day.
I know that God has seemed far from you, and you just don’t know how to talk to Him or about Him.
I know that used to make me so angry, but it now it breaks me in two for you. So, Momma, I talk to Him about you, and I know how He loves!
I know now that you loved the best you could and still do.
I know that you want to give us the world, but Momma, we need you to know this:
We don’t want the world. We have all we ever needed in Christ.
We don’t want you to strive any longer. We want you to find rest in Him.
We don’t want the nights to be hard. We want you to see His Light in the darkness.
We don’t want you to live on emotional strength...that always wears out. We want you to live in His strength – a continual stream that never runs dry.
Momma, we don’t want you to dread death so; we want you to know that after death, you can finally have more than you ever dreamed!
Momma, I know this is not the kind of card you will find in the Hallmark aisle, and that’s why I just couldn’t look there again this year. I needed you to know what I have been thinkin’. I also need you to know this:
I thank God for you! God is Healer! Want to know how? Because I love that it’s you – that you are my Momma. I’m thankful for the no-food-in-the-cupboards-times that we shared; we held each other tighter then. I am thankful for the many messy relationships I experienced with you; they drove me to Christ all the more! I am thankful for the job losses, the rusty, embarrassing cars, the apartments in the “bad” part of town; they have helped me let go of a world that offers nothing in comparison with my Savior. I am thankful for the screaming, the tears, the separation; they helped break up the soil in my hard heart and prepare it for His tender gardening. I am thankful for the distance between us because He is now building the bridge that will never fall or leave or crumble beneath us. I am thankful for the life we walked through, it led me to Him. Did you hear that, Momma, you led me to Christ! It wasn’t through some prayer or formal invitation, but through a journey. We began it together, I met Him along the way, and since then we have weaved in and out of each others’ lives. I pray that this continual weaving will create a tighter and tighter bond – one that will strengthen us and bind us together with chords that cannot be broken, Momma! His chords of love and salvation and wholeness!
Dear Momma, I’ve been thinkin’ about the best thing about you – it is how you remember and how you forget. You remember sweet times you shared as a little girl with your family. You remember all those wonderful, simple moments with Grandma. You remember all my ceremonies, pageants, awards, and juvenile accomplishments. You remember how you felt when you were pregnant with us. You remember birthdays and anniversaries so well. You remember to send recipes I mention in passing. You remember to help others remember with quilts and pictures books.
You also forget. You forget all the times I yelled at you and stormed away from you. You forget all the times I messed up in your presence; you think I’m great…I’m not. You forget all times I’ve disrespected you as I tried to lead you to Christ…please forget them! He would not have done it that way. He is kind, His is love, and He is patient. You forget the bad in people and you remember the moments they were good. I hope I can learn to be just like you.
I love you, Momma.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Counting you as my blessing,
Shaking on the inside as I post and link up with many who are honoring their Mothers and another here.