There is a great song out right now by Luke Bryan, (for those of you who like that genre of music) titled, “I Believe Most People Are Good”. One of the lyrics is, “I believe most people are good and most mama’s ought to qualify for saint hood”
There is something pretty special about moms . . . even the ones who struggled or still struggle with their own demons and maybe didn’t offer us the best childhood. Maybe it didn’t go the way we had hoped, but it definitely went the way that offered us the fastest track to our soul’s growth, should we decide to hold it that way.
Then there are the moms who were present, loving, and conscious in our formative years. To this day they serve as our rock and “go to” person in our time of need. While we haven’t lost them, they lost us with every passing year that marked our growth, maturity and ultimately our leaving to become the men and women we are today. I’m sure they cried a million tears and supressed a million more over the forced moments of having to let us go so that we may walk our chosen path.
Lets definitely not forget the moms of today who are raising their children in a completely different world than the one they grew up in. Never was their safety in jeopardy during math and science class. Never did they have to deal with the humiliation that comes from sharing something vulnerable about themselves only to have it go viral over the internet. And never was the pressure so great to know what their major was going to be in college by the time they were freshman in highschool. For those moms, the ones that are in the trenches and wondering how to preserve the sanctity of their child’s soul in this modern day world, I send you my greatest love and support.
Ahhhh . . . and the beautiful moms who have gone to spirit. The ones we hold dear in our hearts. The ones we think of and wish were here on her special day holiday, and of course, Mother’s Day. The ones that when we reach for the phone to call and share our most exciting news we quickly remember . . . “oh yeah”. The ones that causes our eyes to become wet with tears each time we reminisce down memory lane. To those moms, we send you our loving thoughts and feelings knowing you enjoy receiving them as much as we enjoy sending them.
To you, beautiful Mother Earth, I offer you my most sincerest gratitude. Never once do you say, “you owe me.” Watching you, I learn so much about me. Nothing stays the same and tranisition is always a part of change. It’s darkest before dawn and as my late father always said, “after the rain, comes the rainbow.” I haven’t a clue as to how to make a flower bloom, a tree to bare fruit, or how to determine the perfect flow of rivers of streams . . . but you do. And should I allow and take each step in trust, surly as you guide the monarch butterfly from north to south and south to north with perfect precision, you will guide me.
And lastly, to the mother who has lost a child. The mother who has experienced an unspeakable grief and brokenness that so many of us will never understand nor even begin to comprehend. To the mother who has to learn how to breathe again and live again . . . I bow my head and bend my knee as I offer you this prayer to you . . .
“God bless the mother who has lost a child. Heal her hurting aching heart and just hold her for awhile . . . God give this Mother peace, whose child you’ve called away . . . and give her the joy in knowing they will reunite someday.”
– Thelma Smith