How Mamas Can Point The Way

My Mama pointed the Jesus way.

In the way she lit candles and invited everyone to converse around the warmth of her heart.
The way Jesus calls us all into the Light.

In the way she sang on her knees at night over my precious little brother.
The way Jesus sings over His kids.

The way she listened to every word after school.
And isn't Jesus just the best listener you've ever known?

How her hands kneaded the bread dough, and how my hands still need hers to hold.
How often Jesus spoke of Bread.  Broken Bread.

The way she would tackle and tickle, giving us the touch we didn't know we needed.
Jesus wrestled Jacob, giving him a humbling limp that healed him of pride, and how He still gives us the Touch we don't know we need.

Just that Mama loved all children, and the way that made me feel safe.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me." 

Mama showed me Jesus' love because she loved me even when I was her enemy.  When I was casting stones and whipping her hard with my teenage tongue and...

When I was breaking her heart.

She loved me anyhow.
Like Jesus... My Mama loved me anyhow.

She showed me Laughter and Grace and Love and Safety while living with the most excruciating chronic pain, and she was always a Mystery to me that way.
Now I know that Love endures nails and thorns, and before I knew Jesus, I watched my Mama pick up her cross.  Every.  Single.  Day.

She created enough Mystery about the Love of Christ in her living that I grew past rebelling and started reaching.  Reaching for the One Sure Hand that holds all things together, and I wonder if she hadn't been mine, would I have just kept plunging head long?  If she hadn't been mine, what would have become of me when the storms blew in?  And this....especially this...if my Mama hadn't prayed for this one life here, would I yet be drawing breath?  Wasn't it just that close some days?

Sometimes I close my eyes and see her sitting sun-lit at water's edge, swatting plagues of horseflies and mosquitoes while I let cool river slide around summer swim.  I catch her eyes in my dreams, and they look so much like His.

Always watching over me.

Bernadette