Philippians 2: 3-4

I recognize with every passing year, mistake, or missed opportunity that I have regrets … Yeah, that I worked too much or that we didn’t go camping often enough or eat dinners at the table more regularly, but really it is worse than that. I regret that I couldn’t offer you a world where you played outside with your friends from the time school got out til dark because there was nothing better to do and nothing you would rather do … a world where terror, fear, sadness, depravity, violence and hatred didn’t pour into the palms of your hands, filling your minds with much the same … a world where there was humility enough and empathy enough to step lovingly and respectfully into other peoples’ stories and courage enough and gratitude enough to step into your own … a world less interested in the promotion of a product on the outside rather than cultivation of character on the inside.

I wish I could have given you a world that understood that endless connection is not the same as intimacy, in fact it obliterates it – a world where we are more connected to the ones in front of us, closest to us, of greatest worth to us, instead of a world of millions of faceless voices full of sound bites of knowledge and opinion but often devoid of truth.

A world where the “ism’s” that always separate were replaced by bridges that unite; bridges that invite us to something on the other side of where we stand that is worth seeing; something beautiful we may have missed from the vantage point of only our own side. Maybe even Jesus. Bridges that can bear the weight of all our fallen humanity and connect us to one another in ways that seem unfathomable at this moment in our history. But on that other side, no matter which side you start from, on that other side you will most definitely see Jesus.
“Oh, Aslan, will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?”
‘I shall be telling you all the time. But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder.’“

He is the Builder of bridges. It is His connecting love alone that is strong enough to bear the weight of pride, shame, power, and the innumerable ways we sin against one another … and transform them into humility, worth, forgiveness, love. That justice sought for others without self-sacrifice is really just self-promotion. Love on behalf of the voiceless will quiet its own voice so that others can be heard.

I wish I could have given you a world where we didn’t lob word grenades from our deeply dug foxholes of politics, religion and ideology, not considering the damage that we cause. That, instead, we would each take our white flag of “let’s meet in the middle, I want to hear what you have to say and I hope you will listen to me as well.”
Finally, and maybe most importantly, I wish I could have given you a world that had not forgotten to Whom it owes its every breath. Every.Breath. So thankful that God made me a Mom three times over, and so grateful that He offers them far more than their Father and I ever could, both in this life and the next. Even on the worst of days when my regrets and the “I wish I could have’s” are wagging their crooked fingers and screaming in my face, those three are my Happy Mother’s Day, every day.