Despite the way it's been exploited commercially, Mother's Day, which the West remembered yesterday, remains a good day.  Whether we have good or bad memories of our mothers (or perhaps a mix), we must admit that without our mothers, we would not be here, would not have found life, would not have tasted the marvels of existence.  If our mother genuinely loved us, so much the better, for we learned early on that the world is indeed a good place, and that life is indeed an adventure worth pursuing.  For those for whom the opposite was true, I'm sorry, deeply sorry.  Life was likely not as pretty.  In fact, it may have been inordinately cruel.  Yet I hope and trust that as you have spun out your life, you have found healing and remedy, that you have found that even if your mother did not seem to love you, other people do.

    I loved my mother (she died in 2010), and miss her very much.  I'm so thankful God gave her to me, and me to her.  And my memories of her enduring and steadfast love for me makes me realize, over and over, every day, the enduring and steadfast reality of God.

    

    Thanks, God, for my mother.