It’s something my mom used to say, usually when she didn’t care for whatever it was I was going on about.
I barely knew my father, but I was a lecturer, particularly where she was concerned. And I felt the need to correct my mother often and play the devil’s advocate at any given opportunity. I wanted to “fix” her or set her straight instead of overlooking her traits that annoyed me to no end.
I was arrogant.
It was never my place to “fix” my mother, as though I were the one with the power to heal her soul. I was not better than her, just different. And I don’t even have the power to change my own soul.
I realized this on the morning of the day of her death. The moment I knew Mom was dying, there was no room for annoyance anymore. All my breaking heart could see was the treasure that she was. I prayed there would be moments left to tell her so. And there were. A brief few.
That evening, after she had passed, as I drove home in the dark, I wondered why I hadn’t treated her all my days with the tenderness and gentleness I did during the hours that she lay dying. Why did I put the deepest of love off until the last moment? Would it really have been so hard to just love her as she was all those years?
On Mother’s Day we behave as if all moms are ideal and that praise flows easily from their children. But if you are one of those whose relationship with your mother is difficult, or who is quietly grieving an unreconciled relationship with your mother, remember this: life is fragile, life is short, and we are all difficult. We don’t know how much time we have to give each other the grace God gives us.
So don’t hold back. Give it now and experience Christ’s legacy of grace in your life.