Mothers Day

"I love this tree," I told my wife recently.  And, this got me thinking about why -- certainly a thing of beauty, but not all that unusual.  Or, is it?  As I've reflected a bit further, I've realized that part of my affection is connected to something more historical; something, in fact, from by childhood.  I remember visiting on occasion a section of Marietta, GA, where my Mom's mother lived.  I can still vividly recall the street she lived on, which was lined from one end to the other with white dogwood trees that seemed to hang underneath a canopy of old, large and stately trees overhead.  The sight was a bit magical to me, like Christmas lights in May.

I've come to realize that some of beauty's arrow that has so pierced me so much in life has come from such experiences.  My mother's heritage is there and it's like something from another place and time.  I have also heard my mom say, on several occasions, that her best memories of Mothers Day during the years we were growing up were when she would receive her Spring flowers for the summer.  I remember her working with them on one embankment in particular, as well as throughout the rest of our yard.  While I don't recall helping her as much as I likely should have during those years, I now do something very similar every year at this time.

More important than the flowers (though I hesitate to diminish the power of flowers in this life), I think I received so much more from my mom through those experiences.  It was the time spent together that gave me so much of who I am.  And, for that, I will be ever grateful to her, who in some ways, simply shared her own life with me through these kinds of times together.

And such gifts have a way of keeping on giving, as this has allowed me to recognize similar kinds of beauty in the mothering of our own kids by my wife.  Today our youngest daughter is struggling with some hard decisions, due to circumstances where others had clearly let her and others down.  I saw my wife say to her, ​"I'm praying for you. That you may be truthful and gracious."  These could be, perhaps, some of the most simple and beautiful flowers a mother could give to her daughter.


We have to pray with our eyes on God, not on the difficulties.

-- Oswald Chambers