Mother Words

mother and child
I have been trying to find the mother-words. Love tries to break through, but she comes in stops and starts…gulps and sighs.
I remember her hands and how she was my world. There is still the smell of her at night when she leaned her head against the bunk bed to pray. For so long, the good things have been hidden.
Time is giving these things back to me.
I rejoice in restoration, though there are still tears in its veneer. I remember the words of Scott Cairns and the father he quotes in The End of Suffering…one of my favorite books from 2010.
I have carried my wound and I feel it. The blessing.
Like Jacob, you must hold on to Him. And like Jacob, you will be wounded. Like Jacob, you must say, ‘I will not let You go unless you bless me,’ and then the wound, the tender hip thereafter, the blessing…when you plead to know He is here, and when He answers you, and helps you to meet Him here, you will be wounded by that meeting. The wound will help you know, and that is the blessing.

It is my heart that limps now. But I hold on. And the blessing always comes.

At night I dream of the past—the early days when my heart was whole. There is the crunch of leaves under foot and her laughter. We would walk to the bridge down that dusty road. How she would sing to us.
Her sighs took her so far away.
I walk to the bridge with my boys. Sometimes I sigh too. And when I laugh, I hear a thread of her voice. A woman who is alive sometimes wanders. The doors to the secrets of her heart are all closed now.
And it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter at all.


  1. says

    It is coming, drawing nearer–this healing of the heart. For He Faithfully mends it back together and weaves in all the beauty learned through the pain. Holding my breath with you. Love you, sweet lovely sister.

  2. says

    My mother smelled of Jergens lotion and that scent always take me back to her. I pray that whatever my children remember of me, they will remember the prayers. The passage about Jacob has become so precious to me over the past year. It inspires me to keep holding on, to keep wrestling for the blessing. Keep wrestling, friend. Love you. Happy Mother’s Day, you beautiful mama!

  3. says

    Sweet memories of Mother do not fade, but become more real as we realize we are becoming more and more like her! I used to hate it when someone said, “You are just like your mother.” I wanted to be my “Own person.” Now I welcome the thought that I can be the mirror reflecting Mother and Christ as well.

  4. says

    Laura, this was so poetic and achingly real. Not just poetic lyrics, but I read glimpses of the real story of you. And this bridge of you that connects to your boys. I understand this walk. The sighs. And the laughter too. What joy it is to have that laughter, right alongside the sighs. They both are part of our story, our blessings, friend. A mother-sister-friend-across-the-miles Happy Mother’s Day thoughts and hugs to you…

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