The Bouquets of a Mother’s Heart

The Bouquets of a Mother’s Heart

The Bouquets of a Mother’s Heart

By Dan Kennedy
© 2003/2009

Roses and carnations,
baby’s breath and fern,
artistically bundled in a spray of fresh spring
may show the love of a man for a woman…
But it cannot reveal the beauty of a mother.

Kisses on scrapes and bruises of a small child.
Determination to see blessing upon the offspring,
the purity of a life
and the success of the beloved.
These begin to display the bouquet of
motherly care, dreams and endowments
on those so blessed to be thus loved.

Strength of endurance,
when tedious cycles of life roll over and over,
often almost crushingly so,
on the very one who nurtured the helpless one
in its first gasps of life and breath.
New forms and flowers of life for the motherly arrangement
continually are introduced from the garden of her heart.

Patience. Patience.
Waiting and longing. Praying and watching.
Crying and laughing.
Sorrow and joy interwoven together
in such a complex array that no florist or botanist
could create such a design, such a brilliance of color,
such a dashing array of hope,
such a watering of tears.

The labor pains of birth are washed away
in the overflow of the satisfaction of new life.
From the extreme lack of knowledge
in how to be…in what is expected to be,
to the experience from trial
the school of error
and the delight of discovering truth
with that which really works.
The tapestry of the bouquet
is growing bolder and more permanent.

Contentment.
Resting in knowing that God is in control,
no matter how much I am not.
Praying to that end.
Waiting to that end
and Resting in the assurance of that precious truth.

Those shared experiences of life
become the customized vehicle that delivers the bouquet.
Knocking on the door,
flowers in outstretched hand,
smile gracing the countenance.
Gracious experience and truth,
waiting to shower some new mother,
thirsty with hope.

The bouquet of motherhood graces the tables and windowsills
of the hearts of those who know mothers,
but the tapestry of that bouquet is
forever changing in sight and fragrance.
Ever changing because motherhood is
a living, growing, reproducing blessing;
budding, bearing fruit,
and showering unrequited love from the seasons
within a mother’s heart.