My mom's never been the kind of mom I read about in books growing up.
None of that physical affection or soft, sweet words of encouragement.
Not to say, she is the complete opposite of that. no no.
It's a quiet kind of love that takes a bit of time and pondering to really reveal.
I read about all of these magical moments that moms experience when they first have their baby.
I imagine it to be a very raw, first hand experience of loving like God does, a glimpse of his unconditional love. I imagine it to be like a sudden rush, overwhelming. you know, the ooey-gooey, indescribable stuff that you can't grasp, can't put into words.
I'm not a mom. So I can only imagine and be dramatic and use a lot of adjectives.
A few weeks ago, my mom and I had a pretty honest, loud argument.
A good couple of hours was spent talking at each other. I was trying so hard to get my point across, trying to be heard, trying to be right. LET IT BE KNOWN that the 22 year old is more mature than her own mother. hah!
It ended with both of us even more frustrated and me walking back to my room, defeated.
My dad came in my room and asked me to give my mom a hug before she slept.
I thought that was a really stupid request. I just fought with the lady, why would I hug her?
My body wouldn't allow it.
I've been trying to meditate on the love verses these past couple of weeks.
And as I lay there thinking about the silliness that just happened, I remembered my verse that week:
"Love does not envy, it does not boast. It is not prideful."
I fought it! Real hard!
But the Spirit quickly pointed out the very thing I was fighting all night: my good ole PRIDE.
I lugged my body over to my parents' room and, in the most monotone-i'm-still-angry-voice, asked my parents if we could pray.
We held hands.
My mom prayed first.
And I realized, God was listening.
I felt silly. small. incapable.
And I remembered all those blogs that I read about the magical mom moment.
Maybe my mom did experience that when she had me, I don't know.
But this mother-daughter relationship isn't built on that foundation of thee magical mom moment.
As I sat there, in prayer with my parents, I realized that this was the *magic* that was our glue.
God's more patient and gentle love for each of us, heals. calms. convicts.
His love teaches us to pursue loving each other, more deeply.
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