Two of my Mom's dear friends came out to be with me this week while Bart was away.
They came to make us laugh, to take walks, to create art, to taste coffee from every shop in town and to remember my Mom. It has been 13 years since she left us. We looked at photos, retold stories and relived the wonderful memories.
This summer as I was with dear friends at Lake Martin, I realized that my loss is felt just as deeply today as it did all those years ago. I sense my deep need for guidance, love, wisdom and care from my mother. But God in his grace has gently met me along the way and given me the gift of dear friends. One friend gave me her own black dress and shoes to wear on the day I said goodbye. One friend prays in the middle of the night when I need her. One friend understands my missional heart. One friend listens to all the stories from my childhood. One friend loves my kids as her own. One friend remembers to days that feel hardest for me. One friend calls on my birthday at the time I was born, just like my Mom used to do. One friend leaves things at my doorstep. One friend takes my littlest girl on a date. All of these friends show me and my girls the love of Jesus.
