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.
