When I found my mother on her knees in prayer, I knew it wouldn’t be long before she would confront me with blunt honesty about a character trait that needed correcting, or a behavior that was unbecoming, or worse, expose the dark thoughts of my heart to the harsh light of truth. My mother on her knees, just the sight of it, evoked preemptive confession, because I learned early that God spoke to her…about me.
She loved me, sometimes to the point of suffocation, but even then, I knew how fortunate I was to have the love of this fine woman. She spoke wisdom into every season of my life. Words I would at first resent that would later bring life. Words I repeat to my own daughter. She found the balance between being my mother and being my friend, and I strive to replicate it, but I am not she, and my daughter is not me.
She would dish with me until the wee hours after a first date. Draw out of me the details of a first kiss. Help me heal from broken hearts and never belittle the drama of early love. She tried to argue me out of every boyfriend I ever had, and the one-day she could not successfully convince me that the boy was not right for me, was the day she knew I had found “the one.”
She was proud of me and I never doubted it. As the wife of a pastor, she had a public face that gave time and attention to everyone but me, but within the walls of our home, I was the apple of her eye. She spoke well of me to others and the blessings of her words of love continue to spill over me as I hear them repeated to me from the lips of her friends.
This is my third Mother’s Day without my precious mother. I feel the loss of her wisdom, love, and strength everyday as I strive to be an insightful mother to my daughter. I wish I could call her for advice. Like her though, I spend time on my knees seeking God’s wisdom. My daughter will experience the same phenomenon; a mother who appears clairvoyant, but in truth, is simply exercising her privilege as a daughter of the Most High God, to receive the wisdom of heaven.
I miss her. Especially on days like Mother’s Day. She was remarkable. If I am able to harness only a sliver of her essence, it will sustain me. If I am fortunate enough to experience the same connection to the Divine as she did, I will bring light to my family. May it be so.