I wrote this in 1993 during my intense period of counseling. One morning while sitting outside on my deck writing in my journal, I was thinking about my mom. It was shortly after Mother’s Day and I knew that God was speaking to me as this flowed from my pen.
A Letter of Love- A Bouquet of Flowers
As I sit here this morning, enjoying the quiet and solitude, my mind begins to drift and think of what you were like mom.
I’ve been a mother now almost 15 years. I am the same age now, as you were when you breathed your last here on this earth.
I’ve often wondered if you held me like I held my girls when they were babies. Did you count each finger and toe, did you hold me close to your bosom, and did your love fill the room as you cradled your little one?
Did your heart just want to burst with joy? Did your eyes fill up with tears as you held this tiny bundle of life?
When you chose my name did you dream dreams, did you have hopes, and did you long to watch your child grow, to see her blossom?
Did you ever weep for her, hoping that life would be kind and gentle, because you knew that tiny rose buds need tender nurturing and care? Did your tears water her because each teardrop was filled with a mother’s love?
And when the day came and you breathed your last, were your final thoughts of your children that you were leaving behind?
Did you pray and ask God to watch over them- to water them with His love and tears?
Are you there now with Jesus? Does He walk with you through the fields of flowers? And as you look upon these flowers, do you think of your children? Perhaps one is a daisy, another a marigold, or perhaps a lily.
Do you talk with Jesus; do you rest your head upon His shoulder? Does He tell you how much He loves you, and that He loves all His children?
Do you know mom how much I miss you? How I wish I could have known you? As a child my heart ached for you to hold me, to fix my cuts and soothe my hurts.
I wanted so much to put my head on your shoulder, to hear your voice, your laughter, and your tears. To have known the look of a mothers love, telling me all I needed to know.
How I would have loved to walk with you as a little girl through fields of flowers, hand in hand, you sharing your wisdom and thoughts with me, enjoying nature together. And as I looked upon a stream flowing it would remind me of your love. Yes as a child I would dreams those dreams, I’d wish upon the stars.
But eventually I quit dreaming. At night I would cry, so many nights I would whisper your name. So many nights of emptiness and silence because you were not there and never would be.
Did you hear me call your name? Did you see my tears? Did you know how I ached for you, soaking my pillow with your tears?
Did you know that Jesus collected all those tears in a bottle and as He held each one He would pray my name?
Then one day when He decided it was time, He used all those tears to water a garden, my very own garden, “the garden of my soul“. It had always been hidden by weeds, the tiny flower buds hidden underneath.
But as Jesus used those tears, the tiny buds began to open and eventually crowded out the weeds. And Jesus grew a garden of flowers, beautiful colors and fragrances, all from my tears. Jesus spoke life to those tiny flower buds and under His care they grew.
I don’t know if you can see this mom, if Jesus will pass this on to you. But I’m okay now mom. I am in the hands of the Master Gardener.
I still sometimes cry for you, wishing you could see the three most beautiful flowers- your three granddaughters, my daughters. Perhaps one day you will meet them.
I received a gift on Mother’s Day and it read; “A Mothers love is like a rose, always open, always loving”.
To you this Mother’s Day mom, the mother I never knew, I say thank you for giving me life. I was but a tiny bud when you left- but see me now- I have bloomed.
It was Jesus who watered, His sunshine helped me to grow and it is into His soil that I sink my roots into.
With Him I can weather the storms- He’ll cover me with His wings when it becomes too much for me to bear. And when my soul is parched He’ll water me with His love.
And so dear Jesus I ask, please tell my mom I love her, and tell her I’m okay, that You have filled that ache and emptiness with Yourself.
And I pray that one day there will be a reunion- when you take her hand and you take mine and join them together with Yours.
Perhaps then we’ll walk through fields of flowers and sit beside quiet streams. And as we look into Your face we’ll know how much we are loved.
There will be no more tears but complete joy as we behold our Lord- the Lily of the Valley.
But until then I pray, “Jesus, Lily of The Valley, bloom in all Your beauty in the garden of my heart.” AMEN