It’s funny how hindsight is 20/20. In our culture we spend a lot of time criticizing the way people have done things in the past, and we’re often especially critical of our parents. When I look back at my upbringing I can see flaws in how my parents operated. My mother and I batted heads on many occasions. I was anything but an easy child to deal with, and I know that my mom shed many tears of hurt and frustration; not knowing what to do with me or how best to love me. As an adolescent, I probably used many adjectives (mostly under my breath) to describe my mother that were less than honorable. But today, armed with a little age and hindsight, I have developed a great deal of appreciation for the woman that bore and raised me. Today, if I had to choose one attribute to describe my mom’s contribution to the world, it would probably be ‘sacrificial love’.
You can see it in her hands.
Time and time again I have seen my mom offer to rub a sore back. She has some serious skills in the massage department (a trait that has unfortunately not been passed on to me). On many occasions, particularly in recent years, she has lovingly used her gift to bring relief and comfort to family members… at considerable personal cost. Mom’s hands are arthritic. Hands that caressed my baby fingers and placed Band-Aids on my skinned knees. Hands that brought glasses of water in the night because she somehow just knew that I was thirsty. Hands that cooked ten thousand meals and folded a million pieces of laundry. Hands that helped me pack for college and wrote letters to lift my spirits. Hands that brought home-made mashed potatoes to my wife in the hospital and rubbed her surgery-marred body. Hands that (at the age of 62) built me a patio-stone sidewalk as a surprise. Hands that have started the process all over again with grandchildren. Those hands know only how to give. Now, entering their golden years, mom’s hands are beginning to lose their strength. But not their heart. They frequently seize up, and many times I have seen my mother’s face contort with the ache that permeates the joints of her fingers. But she is a mother. Loved ones come first. Using her arthritic hands to bring healing to others, mom has taught me one of the greatest lessons of my life: Life is not about what you can get. It’s about what you can give.
About a year ago my mom fell. It wasn’t a colossal fall. She just stumbled and landed on her rear end, but it was enough to break a vertebra. Actually, it demolished the vertebra. As it turns out, the injury and the ensuing diagnosis revealed that my mom has osteoporosis. For the past year mom has lived with a great deal of pain. As far back as I can remember, my mom has had a ‘bad back’, but with her injury it has become almost unbearable at times. A few weeks ago she had a long-awaited appointment with a bone specialist. The news was not good. Essentially, there is nothing that can be done about the crushed vertebra. The bones in her back are too brittle; the deterioration too severe to handle corrective action. She has to just ‘live with it’. Over the days that followed the news, I found myself frequently weeping for my mom. My heart breaks for the injustice of the pain my mom is now going through. Jesus, why does she have to go through this? With all the love she has shown over the years, why isn’t she brought only health and blessing? But once again, my mom is teaching me. In my mom’s email to her family shortly after the appointment, she wrote the following:
“While initially stunned at the gravity of the situation, I can honestly say I am not worried. I know that none of this is a surprise to my Heavenly Father. He knows all about it. I know that He is all-powerful and more than able to supernaturally renew my physical body. I also know that He is well able to sustain me for the journey if He chooses not to do that. His will be done.”
(Mom also directed us to this powerfully appropriate song)
My mom has many imperfections, and she is aware of that. Ironically, I share many of the same weaknesses. (We’re both working on them.) But my prayer is that somehow I could also share in the incredible strength that I find in her amazing hands. Because that is the kind of sacrificial love that can change the world. Just look at Jesus’ hands.
I love you mom.
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