Mother's Day Reflections

I woke up this morning feeling keenly aware of--and incredibly grateful for--the fact that nearly 22 years ago, my mother was willing to give me life. And I was brought to tears by the fact that in the decades since then, she's continued to impart life by nurturing me spiritually, preparing physical nourishment for me, and guiding me to grow academically and personally--my mom and dad are awesome, and I think the world of both of them--even more so now that I'm in this frightening balancing act which the world refers to as "young adulthood." Independence is often times a terrifying reality, but you take that for granted when you're a little kid and your parents are there to face it first and break the ice...I'm so thankful that they were.

All of these thoughts were going through my mind as I rolled over and jumped off the top bunk onto the linoleum to start the day. I was feeling pretty mushy and sentimental as I walked across the tiny dorm room to grab a washcloth from my dresser, which serves as a night stand/dressing table/dish & food storage unit, and a few other things besides. I was still a wee bit drowsy and not quite fully alert as I glanced over the random assortment of things on top of the dresser...and that's when I noticed something strange in my glass cereal bowl. I had washed it before going to bed, and left it to air dry on my dresser. And for some ridiculous reason, a centipede had decided that my bowl would be a really dandy place to camp out for the night and just make himself right at home.

Ew.

My sentimental feelings don't extend to the insect world...and I really wasn't thrilled to see this little thing...at the same time, I wasn't sure how to discretely dispose of him. I flicked the bowl. He didn't move. Rats.

So I turned the water on in the sink and let it get as hot as it would...and put my bowl in the sink. The centipede didn't seem to be ok with the hot tub concept. So he died. It was tragic.

An hour later, I was sitting in church, listening to the children's choir sing, looking around at all the beautiful women beaming beside their husbands as they sported corsages on the lapels of their brightly colored dresses...and I thought to myself what a beautiful thing it is that God allows us to live in a multi-generational context, where we have this incredible opportunity to learn from those who are older and wiser, and minister to those who are younger and filled with uncertainty. I wished quietly in my heart that my mom could have been there. I miss her.

Later still, in the Sunday school class that I attend, we were told that one of the class patriarchs had been diagnosed with prostate cancer. My heart bled for Dick and his gracious wife, Jean, as they continue to deal with this diagnosis...and I was struck by the irony of the fact that those upon whom we lean most heavily will at some point need to lean on us. I thought of all the people on whom I have leaned--sometimes desperately--throughout my life...and I was grateful and saddened at the same time. Grateful because they'd been there. Saddened because I know I've taken them for granted many, many times.

I found one of the other girls from the class crying in the bathroom. She'd been really close to Dick and Jean, and this was the first that she'd heard of his illness. I don't know her very well, but sometimes, it really doesn't matter...I put my arms around her, and we just cried together. Because sometimes, life hurts.

My mind was churning, and my heart was full as I drove home alone this afternoon. And as I sit here now, I write this with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face...because life is beautiful and complex and painful all at the same time. And because, as humans, we're broken and hurting and often lonely...and yet, in that very moment when we stand despairingly on the brink of our own personal hell, we find ourselves face-to-face with the gracious, loving God who made us and longs to redeem us, heal us, and transform us.

I'm thrilled to be alive today. I'm grateful that we're given so many second-chances to learn from our mistakes. I wish that I had always appreciated my Mom the way that she deserves, but today, I want to say to her, and to the rest of you moms out there, Happy Mother's Day. Because what you're doing matters, and it's infinitely more important than what people give you credit for. :-)

I love you Mom.