My love language is gifts. (read The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, www.5lovelanguages.com)
That means that the holidays and I continually do this great dance to see if my needs will feel met. It’s just the way it is. Not right or wrong, just reality.
When Keith was alive, we exchanged gifts at each holiday. I was usually happy to give him hints, pick it out myself, or call some house project my “gift.”
But not for my birthday. Then, I needed a surprise.
Since Keith’s death, God has continued to send me surprises.
Even for Mother’s Day…maybe especially for Mother’s Day.
We are on the eve of my fifth Mother’s Day without Keith and each year God has touched the heart of someone to bless me in an amazing way.
One year, a dear friend took me for a pedicure while her hubby and my boys cleaned out and washed my car.
One year, I looked out the window to find my sweet neighbors mulching my front beds.
One year, friends came over to make breakfast at my house.
One year, flowers arrived the Saturday before.
It is almost like Christmas morning when I was a kid, when I eagerly tripped down the stairs to see what Santa left me. Wise Santa, my parents told me, always knew what I needed and of my list what would be the best gift.
This year, God had a gift planned as well.
My dear, sweet friends from a local MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers, www.mops.org) group felt led to make Mother’s Day baskets for our widows’ group.
When they asked me months ago whether they could do this project, I was touched. When I saw baskets, I was flabbergasted.
These were not tokens. The ladies went all-out in filling the baskets until each one was a rich, loving expression, mom-to-mom, of what a struggle it is, what a joy but a pain it is to be a mom. They may not be single moms, but they got it, appreciated us.
When we picked them up, they overflowed the back of my car. I cried.
But that was the beginning of the gift to me.
I got to have the joy of delivering these precious baskets to each of the ladies, to see their faces, feel their gratitude, wipe their tears.
God in action! And, praise Him, I got to be part of it!