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My Mom

Each day, the flowers seem to unfold before my eyes!  It was such a great surprise to come home from a very busy day and find the beautiful purple arrangement there in the kitchen sink, just waiting for my attention.  Right next to it was a card, exclusively for "Mary Strubhar."  It was an early Mother's Day gift from my son!  My response was to melt with warm tears flowing down my cheeks.  There's nothing like being loved for being just Mom .  

It's times like these that I think I understand my own Mom so much better.  The only thing is that all my insight into this knowledge has come too late for me to share with her.  I would love to have a conversation today with her.  I wish I would have been more sensitive to her tears that I often didn't get.  I knew that those tears were evidence of her passion and love, although I didn't really know the depth of that love until unfortunately she had gone.  Oh, I always knew she loved me and her family, but I didn't certainly know the depth of love she had for her Savior.

I remember often, as a little girl, sitting by her in church, that I would see her take out her colorful handkerchief to pat her tear filled eyes.  The tears seemed to flow during any time of prayer.  Even though Mom wasn't the one praying, she was deeply moved.  Her voice would whisper "yes" in response to others pleas.  I admit, I didn't get it then.  I even felt embarrassed at times for Mom's response.  Why couldn't she be like others that seemed to hold their thoughts and feelings in?

But now I get it.  When you recognize that outcomes for your children, your spouse and self are not for you to make, you do discover that God alone is enough.  When jobs are gone, relationships broken, and even friends desert you, you find your only hope is trusting in the One who has been there all along.  Mom got that and she wasn't timid to hide her love for Christ.  Yes, her tears made her vulnerable to others scrutiny, even mine, but they gifted her with grace that always reached out to others.  People who met my Mom always knew that they were genuinely loved.

Yes, her passionate praying was a gift for all of her children.  My brothers and I have been blessed because of that.  And now I can't hold back the tears myself.  Worship songs can move me, passages of Scripture can break my heart so easily, gifts of kindness can flood me out in an instant.  But that's okay, because the One who gets it is my Savior and this love that's being formed in me is His . . .

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