As I think about July 4th, I cannot help but think of my mother.  July 4th six years ago, she passed away at the age of 88.  Mom had a good life, I'd say, a life full of many rich experiences, a loving husband and four children, plenty of friends, multiple satisfying outlets for her many talents.  Though my siblings and I still miss her, we are thankful for the time we had with her.  We are thankful for how she raised us, we are grateful for the love she steadfastly showed us.
     Some of us lose our mothers when we are young, others when we are old.  I suppose I fall somewhere in between.  Either way, although we will mourn them to our dying day, we stagger before the enormity of what a mother is.  How does one picture a person who brought us into this world, a person who taught us about life, a person who stood by us as long as she lived?  How does one think about a person to whom we owe pretty much everything?  It's overwhelming.
     As I traveled in Albania recently, spending a night in the Albania Alps and hiking amidst its mysterious forests and glens, I thought often about Mom.  She loved the outdoors, she loved seeing new places.  And she passed this love onto me, a love for which I will be ever grateful.  Whatever I have experienced since leaving home, I do so in the path which Mom laid before me.  In more ways than I can count, I am dependent on her, who she was, who she made me to be.
     In this, however, I rejoice.  I rejoice that God, in his immense graciousness, gave me a mother like Mom, gave me a mother who helped me to love all that is wild, and encouraged me to pursue all that is true.  For isn't that we want most for our offspring, to be willing to explore the incisive wildness of genuine truth?
     Micah 6:8 observes, "For what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk circumspectly with God?"  Loving the world, loving its people, and loving God:  thanks, Mom, for everything.