Mother love

My mother had no taste for Mother's Day. "It's just a thing cooked up by the florists to sell flowers." 

I take after her. Commercial and saccharine, I can do without.

Martha with baby Jan in 1947

But, in actuality, she was very much into healthy mothering and I'm the better for it.

My friend the Rev. John Kirkley passed along a story in a sermon that catches what she gave me. He offers this from the Methodist theologian Tex Sample:

When Tex was a teenager, he went from being 5’5’’ tall to being 6’2’’ tall in about 5 minutes.  He was the scrawniest, gangliest thing you ever saw.  And, of course, his glands went crazy.  He had terrible acne.  He could hardly bear to show his face at school and his classmates were not kind. 

But every night, before he went to sleep, his mama would come into his room and sit on the edge of the bed.  She’s stroke his forehead and say, “Tex, you are the purdiest boy I’ve ever seen.  You are so purdy, I can hardly stand it.”  Telling that story 40 years later, Tex realized that his mother saw him as God saw him.  And in the light of such love his pain was transfigured.  No matter what the culture or his peers tried to tell him, he was able to receive his identity from a source much deeper and more true.  

My mother showed me that unconditional love was possible, even though people are complicated. All children should receive that. Because I did, I am able to imagine that God's love, whatever that is, might be equally without limit, even bigger and better ...

There are lots of people who are not literally mothers who are fortunate enough to be able to give love in a healthy motherly way to people who are not their babies. Somewhat to my surprise, I've even known a few who were men. Let's celebrate all of them.