How was Mother’s Day this past Sunday? For many of you, it was a day of warm smiles, sweet gifts, a meal out or prepared at home with much love, and a remembrance of all that ties you to your children.
But for some of you . . . it was different. It was not a day of joy. It did not fill your heart with warm thanks. It was marked more by what didn’t happen.
• a card that didn’t come
• a call that wasn’t made
• a voice that wasn’t heard
I thought of you this past Sunday. I ached for you, those of you who long for a connection that didn’t happen. I prayed for you as I knew it might be a day of heartbreak.
Your child is distant, perhaps even completely estranged. You may feel that a part of you is dead, that the loss of your relationship with your son or daughter has carved something out of your heart that cannot heal. But I want to bring you words of hope, a hope you can lean into, relax against, and let your troubled heart be tenderly held.
While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.”
You may think the spiritual life of your child is over, empty, perhaps even dead. But God is still reaching out to this child in ways you cannot see.
Mark Twain speaks of a “hope tree” with blossoms. Today, seek out a blossom or two. Give yourself the gift of something that makes you smile, call a friend who makes you laugh, watch a movie that always lifts your spirits. These aren’t big things. In fact, they’re more like hope candy—only a little satisfying till you can get something better to eat.
But take that little candy blossom, enjoy its temporary sweetness, and then wrap it all in the knowledge that your Father in heaven holds you closely in one arm, and continues to reach out to your prodigal with the other.