I love you. I miss you.
Since I became a mother myself, I have asked you often just how you did it. I am fortunate to know that, by the end of the day, my husband will be home to carry some of strain of daily life, but you simply didn’t have that. You raise us by yourself. 4pm or 5pm or 6pm. There wasn’t anyone else coming to help you, but you did it. It still blows my mind.
You gave of yourself over and over and over again. Sometimes you maybe should have said no, but you just wanted to help anyone and everyone in any way and every way that you were able. You cared for your family, and you were willing to open your arms to accept new members every day.
I know you weren’t perfect. You had been hurt and so some things had left you twisted up, but you didn’t let that become who you were all the time. You were full of joy and dancing. You were always ready with a smile, a laugh, a joke, and that was something beautiful. It would have been so easy – and even understandable – for you to let misery seep in, but God took your brokenness and changed it.
Hope. You didn’t lose your hope. From that sure and certain hope that Christ is real and Christ is truth and Christ is saviour, you have left a legacy of faith behind you which surrounds us with encouragement to keep on keeping on.
You were a wonderful mother and we will always be grateful for who God made you to be.
2 Corinthians 5:17