Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Isaiah 49:15a
It was one of the biggest boo-boos in my life. I purposely left her as I march into my high school graduation. She was supposedly walking beside me as I walked that aisle as an honor student. As a teenager who does not know who is valuable and not, I ignored her. Her is my mother. Imagine what she must have felt upon seeing other parents and other students stride towards their rightful places. Imagine what she must have felt upon realizing her son put her aside instead of being on her side. She was mad, really mad. She reprimanded with tears and questions. Asking why a son has done so. Asking what a mother did that a son has done so. I have no answer. I have no justification. But, after this moment, she still cared for me as if nothing happened. She still made sure I have food in front of me. She still turned my dirty clothes into clean. She still gave funds for my advancement. She still shared her joys in my victories and allowed herself to be involved in my failures. She was set aside by her son yet she is still a mother.
She just lost her mother. She cried and she cried a river. Her world was broken apart. She turned side by side yet her vision is blurred by the pain. She looked up and she looked down yet her face issued the same image of devastation. No words can console her. No embrace can calm her. At the time she divulged the sad news to her daughters, she amassed renewed strength. As her daughters shed their tears, she was there to console. She was there to embrace. Her mind was pulling her in different directions yet she gave the way to peace to her children. She was weak and she gave strength. She was in pain and she was healing others. She was startled and she was assuring. Her world shuttered yet she was building others’ confidence. I saw all these in my wife. A daughter who lost her mother however a mother not at lost to her daughters. She is still a mother.
She received rejection. She experienced pain. She won’t forget her children. She won’t forget her call. She will never forget. In moments her identity is challenged, she is still a mother.
HEADWIND CANOE 