Dressed in shiny black shoes, a flowered knee-length dress, white gloves, and a small hat worn atop her curly grey hair, she seemed to step right out of a 1950’s church service.
Widowed for over a dozen years, the elderly woman lived a solitary rural life. But despite the dated clothes, she knew exactly what her son was up to and it wasn’t good.
Thus, her reason to visit us.
Her son was our nearby neighbor. His life had been a zig-zagging road of challenges. Let’s just say that law enforcement knew his name and location.
But he had a mama who loved him. She knew we’d helped him out a time or two.
Now, she’d driven 80 country miles to see us. She wasn’t asking that we give him money—but could we somehow encourage him and give him some hope?
I felt sorry for this woman; she was far too old to deal with broken lives. She didn’t have the means to pay her son’s fines and bail—nor was she hinting that we should offer.
She knew that unless her son had hope, his future would be only more of the same.
“Can you talk to him and let him know that he could come back home?” She held her purse on her lap with her gloved hands folded on top. Not to the home of his recent past, but to the home of his childhood.
My husband assured her he would talk to her son. Then I watched as he tucked her arm in his as he gently led her to her ancient car.
Even though this was years ago, I can remember this scene like it just happened.
Evidence of unconditional love—a mom believing in what no one else sees.
As I watched her drive away I realized something about the power of love. It’s tightly intertwined with faith.
It would never be about what her son had done, but about all that he could be.
As the Apostle Paul noted, “We live by what we believe, not by what we can see.”
2 Corinthians 5:7