She reminds me of you. That’s what he said.
His tender smile hid for the better part of the day but when he talked about her, who she is, how she loves, the level of goodness she brings to him, his tired countenance couldn’t contain the peacefully deep pleasure of a young man, my young man, in love.
Even in the pain, his smile grew wider, his heart more open and his words more pure. When I asked what he loved most about her, one of the things he said was this: “She reminds me of you.”
I swallowed the best I could as my heart furiously raced to fill my freshly healed being with life-giving cells of restoration, releasing years of desperate prayers on my once broken cheeks.
Five words + years of relentless mama prayers = a sweet tasting, soothing salve upon a gold infused, broken and stitched vessel.
God knew what my mama heart needed even though my words never knew.