Thursday, October 22, 2009

Determining True Value

Any silence for more than a few minutes sets my mommy radar to flashing. I've learned the hard way. Usually, silence means somebody is eating something she shouldn't or going somewhere he knows I've already labelled as forbidden.

With twins clawing at my legs, I peek around the corner, sure Wyatt is getting into mischief in the green barn. Instead, I find him skipping from one spot to another in the grass, stooping down at seemingly random intervals to pluck another onion flower and add it to his growing handful. His face reflects the seriousness of his task.

Sometimes, stooping isn't sufficient, and blue jean knees kneel on wet earth to give him a better grasp of another slender stem.

I understand his serious contemplation. These are springtime flowers who are not supposed to be peeking their heads through the soil until next year. A humid, hot, and wet October has seemingly confused even God's creation as to what season it is.

Suddenly, Wyatt's head pops up and he barrels towards the house, obviously content with the size of his small bouquet.

"Mommy! I brought you some flowers!! I brought you flowers, mommy!! You put them in a vase?"

That excited face. How could this mother not smile in returned excitement?

He watches me put the flowers in an old cup, making certain that I'm not discarding his offering. And as I sit the "vase" atop the back bench, he comes closer to hug me and raise his face for a kiss. "I love you mommy." Then, off he runs to find more flowers.

To him, these are not just worthless onion flowers that most city folk would seek to eliminate from their lawns with weed killer. In his eyes, he's just brought me a handful of precious jewels.

And in a way, he has.

The value isn't in the object itself but in his giving heart and sacrificial attitude. The knees bent, giving his full attention to the task as he labours to offer the best he can find.

It's a lesson my Father has been trying to teach me this past week as I've been putting together the packets to hand out to the needy at red lights--the monetary value of the sacrifice isn't the point. Neither are any other tangible results that I will probably never see from my sacrifice.

It's the heart and attitude that matter the most. It's my knees bent in prayer, my heart bent in submissive obedience to His Word.

It's my love for God as the answer to the "why" of my everyday actions.


  1. Ahh...what a way to start my rainy morning. I'm loving the flowers here, the ones Wyatt picked, and the ones in your sidebars. You really have a way with words, I'm right there with you...

  2. Those sweet flowers remind me of my mother.

  3. Stop by to pick up a blog award, dear heart!

  4. Beautiful story Jennifer. And I love the way you posted the pictures with the story. Brought tears to my eyes. I remember similar stories of my sons, now ages 29 and 26... when they were just 2 and 3... how pure and how innocent their love is. I still treasure these memories in my heart. My sons still put their arms around me and say "I love you Mom..." but it all started when they were little. How heartwarming indeed. Makes mothering worth it all!


  5. What a beautiful tribute...both to the mom that your son loves AND to the Father above Who loves you both.

    I found your blog via Jennifer's GDWJesus...and am happy I did.
    Blessings to you,