A Mother’s Day Longing

My mom, Lindy Eareckson, may be long-gone to heaven, but not a Mother’s Day rolls around that I don’t think about her and the ways she made our house a home. As a child, I would come home from school and be welcomed by the warm aroma of Mother fixing dinner.

I’d put my book-bag away, give Mom a quick hug, and race out the back door to play with my sister, Kathy, and the neighborhood kids. Before long, the rays of the sinking sun would cut long shadows through the trees, and I knew that soon mom would call, “Kathy, Joni! Supper’s ready! Come home!” I rarely took it upon myself to go home unless called. Something in me wanted to wait and hear her call… I loved hearing the sound of Mom’s voice echoing, shouting my name.

If I think hard, I can still hear my mother’s voice. It almost makes me cry; it just about made me cry when I was a child.

The haunting sound through the woods… the joy of knowing I belonged, that my house was filled with love and the warmth of family…

It was all I could hope for as a kid. The memory means even more now that I’m closer to seeing my mother in heaven than I am to those long-ago golden afternoons. It fills my heart with that same haunting joy of love for Home. In the meantime, I’m waiting for the day when I will hear my Savior’s voice call my name, “Joni, it’s time… come home!”

Whatever Mother’s Day holds for you, join me in delighting today in all that “home” means to us all!

If you are a mom going through a painful trial today, listen to this sweet story.

–Joni Eareckson Tada