Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last; but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised. Reward her for all she has done. Let her deeds publicly declare her praise. [Proverbs 31:30-31 (NLT)]
That smiling bride in today’s photo is my mother. Taken at her wedding eighty-eight years ago, it’s one of the few photos I have of her. A quiet unassuming woman, I don’t think she thought of herself as pretty and she disliked having her picture taken. Nevertheless, even with her freckled face, unruly hair, overbite, thick glasses and hearing aid, my mother was the most beautiful woman I’ve known…and her smile could light up a room.
It was at my mother’s side that I learned to love the written word. She urged me to read all sorts of books that were probably considered far too adult for a girl my age and we discussed every one of them in detail. She was intelligent and creative and encouraged me in every one of my endeavors. She was incredibly open with me about her past, her faith, and her feelings. Perhaps she knew her time on earth was brief, so she packed everything a mother wants to teach her daughter into fifteen short years.
It was from my mother that I learned about generosity, love, forgiveness, and how to find peace in the turmoil. She showed me that true love takes effort and is more a choice than a feeling. She introduced me to the writing of C.S. Lewis and started me on my journey of faith. It was through her that I came to know Jesus. This shy humble woman taught me courage: courage in the face of disappointment, adversity, and betrayal—courage in the face of cancer and in the face of death. She taught me how to live and how to die.
My mother probably was the most beautiful when she was the least attractive—without any make-up, a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, and lying in a hospital bed, just a few days before her death. As we were departing her hospital room, my father leaned over, picked up a corner of her oxygen tent, ducked in and kissed her. He said, “You look like an angel tonight.” Her response, said with a smile on her radiant face, was, “Maybe tomorrow I’ll be with the angels!” Indeed, as she passed through the valley of death, she knew who accompanied her. My mother wasn’t afraid because she had complete faith in God’s promises. She wasn’t worried; trusting God that the family she left behind would be just fine, she knew that where she was headed would be even better. She may not have been what some would call “pretty”, but my mother was the most beautiful woman in my world. I do, however, have to admit that my mother-in-law, another wonderful woman of faith, ran a close second! In His grace, God blessed me with two beautiful mothers—not everyone is so blessed!
Dear Lord, we thank you for our mothers: those beautiful women who gave us life. We also thank you for all of the other beautiful women of faith who have blessed our lives with their encouragement, enlightenment, love, guidance, and good example. Please reassure them that, in spite of what the mirror and society may tell them, they are truly beautiful both in your eyes and ours!
Thinking we’d never be old enough to retire in Florida, we used to spend our winters in a Colorado mountain town and our days skiing on the slopes. The lift line crew at one lift often posted riddles or trivia questions on a board at the bottom of the hill. As we pondered the answer while riding up, we’d see the answer at the top as we skied off the lift. One day the question was, ”What is greater than God? The poor have it, the rich need it and, if you eat it, you will die!”
In Luke 7:36-50, we find a “sinful” woman anointing Jesus with her tears and perfumed oil. Taking place in Galilee early in Jesus’ ministry, this occurs at the home of Simon the Pharisee. During a banquet at the Pharisee’s home, a “sinful” woman carrying an alabaster jar entered. Remorseful for her sins, the uninvited guest fell at Jesus’ feet, washed them with her tears, wiped them with her hair, and kissed His feet while anointing them with perfume from her jar.
For three days, Israel traveled across the desert without finding any water. When they arrived at Marah, the exhausted and thirsty group was disappointed to find the water undrinkable because of its bitterness. When Moses cried out to the Lord, God told him to throw a piece of wood into the water to make it sweet. It was then that God proclaimed His name to be Jehovah Rapha, the “Lord who Heals You.” Jehovah Rapha took the bitter out of the Israelites’ water and made it palatable.
Last February, we celebrated love with the secular holiday Valentine’s Day. We may have given or received flowers, candy, or a card—tokens of someone’s love for us or our love for them. Seven weeks later, however, the flowers are dead, the candy is eaten, and the card in the recycling bin. The day dedicated to “love” is forgotten until next February when the ads for jewelry and flowers remind us.
When we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day tomorrow, I suspect the revered bishop who brought Christianity to Ireland in the 5th century wouldn’t recognize this day in his honor. Originally a religious feast, it’s now a day for parades, sales, “Kiss Me I’m Irish” t-shirts, corned beef and cabbage, music, dancing, and lots of green (including hair, cookies, the Chicago River, milk shakes, and kegs of beer). St. Patrick, however, would recognize the common symbol of the day: the shamrock. Of course, to Patrick, the shamrock, with its three leaflets bound by a common stem, was a metaphor for the Holy Trinity. The shamrock’s three leaflets also came to symbolize faith, hope, and love.
