It was the first time I had attended a wedding in my home church. Hubby and I slipped into a back row seat, immediately we began to notice old, familiar faces we were eager to reconnect with. I took note of all the details while the usual events played out- processional, vows, kiss etc. It was nearing reception time, I glanced up and was suddenly frozen in thought. In front of me was an usher and the grooms mother. She had just wiped the fresh tears from her face. It appeared that tears had been falling on this womens face for quite some time. My mind raced through years as I imagined myself playing the role of the Grooms Mother. Future visions of tears falling in fresh abundance on my face flashed before my eyes.
My mental images then turn to the present. Why, this very morning we ran a typical family errand to Lowes. We were going to look for a toilet bowl lid to replace the one that had broken. Broken? yes, this tragedy occurred when Tucker was playing Curious George about the toilet top. He attemped to take it off while shattering it all over the floor and cutting his leg. Why do boys care what goes on under the toilet bowl?
Back to the point, the boys are in a stage where it is of utmost importance to hold mommy’s hand EVERYWHERE we go. Daddy’s hand will not do. We have often tried taking turns.
My plan: one boys walks with momma and the other with daddy, then we switch off after a few minutes. Sounds good, right? NOPE as of late, this plan ensures that one boy will relentlessly wail, ” I wanna hold mammas hand” while the other boy proudly walks with mamma. I always give in. I can’t stand it. This stage of the boys insisting on holding my hands is quite sweet, so sweet in fact that mommy usually ends up handing merchandise over to daddy and relinquishing buggy duties so that I can hold their hands. When the crying boy comes and grabs my other hand- he usually wipes away the tears, sniffs one last time and smiles real big.
AND ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD.
We prance around Target, Lowes, Harris Teeter, or wherever, but there is peace in our little world because mommy has two hands and there is one for each of them. As I relive the details of the morning, My heart fills with warmth, not the kind that comes from a fire in winter- this warmth will live on through the years by way of trusted memories.
Back to wedding, I am still locked on the weepy mother of the groom, my mind is lingering on this contemplation: one day I’le be locking arms with a handsome usher walking out of my sons wedding. I pinched myself and said “ don’t forget how the boys would fight and cry over who held mamas hand at the store”. I determined to never forget the warmth that those sticky, sweaty, precious hands brought to my heart.
Lord, please help me to live in the present. Please arrest my thoughts when I get caught up in looking to the future. Remind me to treasure the moments of the NOW. Thank you Jesus!
Can anybody relate?
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