When I was a boy, you told me to think about the bruises on your face and the bruises on your feet. You asked me to remember a mother’s love for her son, so that I would not forget God’s love for sinners.
Before I knew God through Christ, I knew about Him through you, mom. I knew that God loved sinners, because you loved me. I knew that God was faithful, because you never left me. I knew that God was longsuffering, because you suffered long for me.
I will never forget that you carried me on your back as you travelled alone through the treacherous roads from Ghana to Nigeria, bruising your feet, so I would see my father for the first and final time. I will always remember that you were able to smile through your bruised face even as we waited to be taken to the shelter. You knew something I did not then understand. You knew that though many had hurt and abandoned you, your God had helped and sustained you, and he always would.
And now, here you are, mom. God has proven your faith wise. He has given you a house and saved your household. Your face radiates the faithfulness of God. And your feet rest in the gospel of peace.
I love spending time with you, mom. And I cherish your ability to move seamlessly from sobering conversations to endless jokes and laughter. And to be honest, one of my favourite things to do is to watch Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model with you.
Mom, please forgive me for when I have not honoured you, especially in my youth. And thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
Many mothers have done excellently, but, mom, you surpass them all.
Happy Mother’s Day. I love you,