Reflections From a Mother’s Heart

I’ve read many books in my lifetime and I’m sure I have many more yet to read, but the one I read this weekend is the greatest one I have or will ever read.

Eighteen years ago I went in search of a Mother’s Day gift for my mother. I was nineteen years old and on a mystical search for the Spirit to guide me to the perfect gift for my mother. I found myself in a bookstore drawn to one particular book entitled “Reflections from a Mother’s Heart.” On the front cover was written, “A Family Legacy for Your Children: Your Life Story in Your Own Words.” The book was full of many questions with blank spaces and I knew from the moment I saw it that it was special. Something inside of me knew it would be a gift not just for my mother but to all those that she loved. Knowing my mother, I knew her family was her heart. Anything that could warm the hearts or those she adored would be the greatest gift I could ever bestow upon her.

Years passed and I had forgotten about the gift I gave by Mother so many years ago. Until this past Mother’s Day when my Mom walked me to the front yard of my home and said, “I’d like to show you something. It took me a while, but I finished it.” From behind her back she handed me the book I had given her so many years before. I opened it to find where I had written on the first page….

Each page, all 202 of them, were filled with the delicate touch of her handwriting. Maybe it’s because it’s my Mother’s craftsmanship, but I can literally see love with every stroke and curve she places upon the letters of her script. I can feel her personality in her writing and the sweetness of her heart in the intricacies of her penmanship. As I glanced upon the pages, I was immediately taken back to the bookshop and the thoughts that saturated me when I first purchased this gift. I knew then it would somehow be an heirloom for my heart.

I could hardly wait to open its pages and begin devouring every word but I hesitated because I wanted it to be special. It was special. These words were my Mom. My Mom was these words. These were not just written words to me. They were windows to my mother’s heart. There are great loves in this life, that of a man for a woman, that of a child for his parents, that for a man and the Divine, and that of a mother for her beloved child. So to honor these words, I selected a sacred place to digest and ponder them.

I went to my parent’s lake cabin nestled beautifully in a cove by the lake with a view to make heaven stop and take notice. I lied on the pier in the sunshine and read. I swung in the hammock beneath my favorite tree called Hope. We call her Hope because she’s been struck by lightning twice and mended herself and flourished in spite of what tried to knock her down. I read enveloped by the winds and while listening to the birds sing their sweet, summer songs. I read as the flowers beautifully arrayed me. I read while listening to the frogs croak and the crickets chirp. I read. I cried. I listened. I laughed. I pondered. I read some more. It was the greatest feast I’ve ever absorbed. Each morsel like that of a delicious spread fit for the most noble in all the land.

The questions provoked my mother to answer life’s most personal and probing questions. She took me on an adventurous, heart-felt journey through the pages of her ordinary yet tremendously spectacular life. I glimpsed into her childhood memories, family history, light-hearted incidents, cherished traditions, and most importantly I literally saw inside her heart where I found me, my sister, her grandchildren, and all those she has loved so deeply, including the One she holds most dear, her Jesus.

I’ve always been in love with my Mother from the moment I saw her, the way she smelled, the way she smiled, the way she cared and the way she loved. But reading this memoir of her life connected me to her Spirit in a way that I am certain will bind our souls for all eternity. Her wisdom was so simple yet so profoundly heart piercing that it’s difficult to read without a tear in your eye. The force of love woven through each page was so potent my heart could barely take the pulsing of its energetic power. I pray every soul have the opportunity to be overtaken with the power of love radiating at it’s most ostentatious frequency and directed specifically towards their heart. God has provided such an experience for all of us if we would recognize and receive it. For me, this weekend, he sent this electrifyingly wonder through the heart of my mother. I saw God while lying on a hammock. He was capsulated in the penmanship of my first love, my Mom, and stamped upon the pages of my heart.

Listening to the heart of your parent share their regrets, their failures, their joys and their memories is a noteworthy legacy to be treasured by their children. Listening to my mother speak about the beauty of repentance, the power of letting go, and the theme of love and belief that echoes from her heart moved me to no end. My mother’s heart is her greatest treasure because that is where she stores all of us.

I wish I could articulate what these pages have meant to me. They’ve given me a glimpse into my Mom’s life through a different lens, her lens. Though I was also experiencing many of the noted moments myself, seeing them from her view point gave me a whole new perspective of my own life. For example, one particular question in the book asked my Mom about her Christmas memories. At the bottom of the page, she wrote, “This is how I see Christmas.” She drew a picture of three stick figures, her, my sister, and me. My sister and I were placed beneath the Christmas tree. She was looking from a far with a heart drawn on her chest. That picture had me in tears for a least a good half hour. Now I have my own children, I understand the emotion that resides in such a simplistic, sketch drawing. I too have sat beneath the Christmas tree starring at my children with a swollen heart wondering if they will ever know how deeply I truly love them. My Mom depicted moments like combing my hair and how special they were to her. It made me pause. Every morning I fix my daughter’s hair. She just turned six years old, has long, curly, black hair, and is pure sunshine to my soul. Yet, in the hustle and bustle of life I comb through her tangles each and every day rushing to the next activity. Will someday I pier back through the lens of time yearning for those conversations when she steps out of the bath smelling so delicious and waiting for me to comb through her hair? One day she won’t need me to braid her pigtails any longer. Oh the parting a mother must endure to release that which once belonged solely to her. Seeing life through the lens of my mother has caused me to pause and savor each moment with my own three beautiful blessings. Time passes so quickly. Perhaps I should sit and let my mother comb my hair once again. She has spent her whole life devoted to making me happy. Have I given enough of my heart to her? While I was off chasing after life how badly she must have missed holding my hand and curling my hair.

I share this particular blog for one reason. Listen to your parents. As written in Job 12, “Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?” Seek for the wisdom in their words and really allow their love for you to deeply root itself in your heart. Take time to get to know them as your friend. When you’re with your family, be there. Really be there. Look them in the eyes. Listen to their soul. Never be so rushed to get to the next moment that you fail to appreciate the beauty in the one you are experiencing. As the famous quote says, “Now and then it’s good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy.” Listen to your parents. But also love them. Really love them. Love them well.

I would be delighted to share my Mom’s writings with all of you but quite frankly they wouldn’t mean as much to you as they do me. I would, however, encourage you to talk to your own parents, ask them questions about what they’ve learned in life and savor their written words to you. If your parents are no longer with you, don’t stop listening to them. Don’t stop talking to them. Some of your greatest moments with your parents will be long after they’re gone. Those of you who’ve lost a love one will understand what that means. And for those who had parents that lost their way, were unkind to you, or possibly abandoned you, there is a Heavenly Parent that lives within you that is always speaking, always guiding, always comforting, always near, and always…and I mean ALWAYS loving you. Also, don’t forget the sweet and nurturing voice of Mother Nature who speaks in her own way. She’s always whispering the most beautiful, calming words that teach the mysteries we all long to perceive. “But ask the animals, and they will teach you, the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you.” Job 12:7-8

I dedicate this entry to my Mother who has given me the greatest gift I have ever received. She literally offered me her heart. Mom, it was oh so pretty. Thank you for sharing such beauty with me. In the book you were asked to list your most poignant memory about your childhood to which you replied, “Being Loved.” You went on to say, “That is all that is left when all else is gone. It’s enough girls. It’s enough.” So I would say the same to you, my sweet Mama. What was my most poignant memory about my childhood? Being loved.

Being loved.

Oh and by the way, it still remains my most wonderful memory.