A Mothers Love

I caught this train from London to Glasgow today. It was a 4 hour journey and half way through I scored myself a sweet window seat. I spent the remainder of the ride gazing out the window, capturing the countryside.

All along the edges of the train tracks there were pockets of wild foxgloves bursting with beauty.

My mother loves foxgloves.

My mother loves me too.

As I rocked along the train tracks I was struck again by the beauty of creation, and the beauty of love. I too know what it is to love, and I too know what it is to be loved. It almost seems paradoxical, but in the bonds of love we are set free.

This bought tears to my eyes - the kind of tears that just leak out and you can't stop them. I wasn't sad, I was grateful, and this was my response.

I understood anew that I am loved, by my mother and by my God, and it is this love that defines me. As I travel through this world and as I travel through this life, I don't always know what I'll be facing, but I face it with the knowledge that I am loved. I think that's beautiful. I think that defines all that I am. I think that defines all that I think and say and do. I think love defines everything.

(p.s. I love you mum, and I think that I may just be learning to love foxgloves)