Dear Mom

I was so ashamed, so heart-broken. I decided to make the call while sitting in my car, in an empty parking lot, because I knew I would sob when I heard your voice. I had to say it out loud, speak the truth. And you had to hear it; I needed help. So I dialed your number, my number, the only number I know I will always know, and I heard you answer the phone joyfully. Just because it was me calling. I heard the love in your voice even before you heard the hurt in mine.

"Mom," I said, "I need to tell you something."

Oh wise mother, you knew even before I said a word. You had been one of the few to attempt telling me- softly, gracefully, but I had no ears to hear then. I imagine that you sat down on the other end of that line, ready to receive my offering of guilt. As I broke and the flood of sorrow and disappointment overcame me, I heard your voice.

And at the first sound of that first syllable, I felt mercy. For the first time since my awakening to the depth this mistake, this thing that could not be undone, I knew mercy. Trembling in fear, I felt the comfort interlaced in the fabric of your simple words. "It will be okay." "I love you."

In one day, the very next day, you were there. It was expensive grace that brought you to me so quickly, but I was so glad to lean.

The wisdom of your fast response has never been so clear to me. Now I know that had I stayed even one more day, sly manipulation might have crushed my tender shoot. I don't think you knew that. But you knew Love, and you knew me.


I am so grateful Umma. This is your God-gift, and I am so blessed to have it extended to me.  

Added to the Mother's Day Project @ HighCalling Blogs.