A Mother's Love

by Sarah Van Diest @SarahVanDiest

1 Corinthians 13:4-7  Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous; is not proud; is not conceited; does not act foolishly; is not selfish; is not easily provoked to anger; keeps no record of wrongs; takes no pleasure in unrighteousness, but rejoices in the truth; love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.

I have strange and disjointed thoughts when it comes to Mother’s Day. Maybe it all stems from whacking into one particular Mother’s Day with full force, as I wrote about last year on Mother's Day Mayhem, but maybe that’s not the cause.

I struggle sometimes to enjoy the day. It’s full of sweet joy juxtaposed with mindful discomfort. I’m not sure why. Does anyone relate? I know there are friends of mine out there who dread the day. It’s full of painful reminders. Every rose handed out signifies for them a tragic memory, an unfulfilled desire, or some unspoken and unrelieved sorrow. I grieve for them. All I know to do is to love them.

I suppose that’s what love is: sweet joy and mindful discomfort, or even agony. Love runs the gamut. It encompasses our most prized memories and cradles them in the same hands that hold our deepest losses. A mother’s love does that.

A mother’s love delights to see her child find interest and excitement in the pictures nature paints on a rock.

A mother’s love remembers the way her toddler says words just slightly off, and captures the sweetness of their newly created word in a forever memory.

A mother’s love stays by the side of her ailing child in the hospital bed and waits and prays and cries and breathes deep breaths of desperate hopefulness. 

A mother’s love walks from her car to the police station and looks into the eyes of her beloved teen and declares by her presence that she will never give up.

A mother’s love laughs at jokes that make no sense and silly faces she’s seen a dozen times, and reflects life back into her child’s heart.

A mother’s love drives miles and miles catching up to her child’s bus to present the forgotten sleeping bag because the night was going to be cold and the ground hard.

A mother’s love prays, relentlessly prays, for the prodigal to come home, and she stores up all the treasures needed for the party for that anticipated day.

A mother’s love sheds tears of joy when her child, after tireless effort and numerous attempts, finally passes the test and makes the grade.

A mother’s love is defined by hope. Her heart believes all things and hopes all things. She cannot help it.

A mother’s love is etched on her heart. It cannot be undone. Though some have hardened their hearts and others have cast off their sentiments, the etchings remain. Their child’s life is scored deeply into their souls; happily irreparable.

Our Father made us this way.

Our Father loves us this way.

All of us, mothers or not, male or female, are called to love this way. A mother who loves is just a tangible example of what the Father’s love looks like.

Finish my blog and write your own line: A mother’s love….

TWEETABLE
"A mother who loves is just a tangible example of the Father's love." @SarahVanDiest (Click to Tweet)

Sarah has worked in Christian publishing since 2005 as both an editor and an agent.

Currently, she works with her husband, David, in their agency, the Van Diest Literary Agency. Writing is a growing passion for her as she hopes to bring hope to hurting hearts.