When I was in my teens, I would often catch my mama looking at me and saying nothing. It was an intent stare that seeps through me, making me feel uneasy because most of the time, she looks at me that way when I make mistakes.
And I remember, I would always wonder what goes in her mind. Silent frustration? Eye of shame, maybe? All I ever could guess was she probably was too tired to say anything, so she would just always stare.
Fast forward to more than a decade, and I’m a thousand of a mom chronicles older. I think I’m getting a little pinch of what my mama thought as I am a mom myself to my boys today.
A few weeks ago, Rapha broke our TV. For the nth time, I kept telling him not to throw toys out of excitement, but being the restless boy that he is, my pleas didn’t really end up heeded. The moment RJ told me that Rapha confessed he broke the TV by hitting it with his toy car, I closed my eyes and thought about how much we’re going to shell out again for a new one. (LOL!)
Then, I went out of the study room and asked him. At almost five years old, Rapha already knows how to reason out. And I just listened and looked at him—and said nothing.
That moment, I remembered my mama. I figured out what she was thinking everytime she looked at me; the way I looked at Rapha.
It wasn’t the mistake that caused silence. It wasn’t the frustration. It wasn’t the bills. It wasn’t shame. It didn’t mean giving up.
It was the unconditional love that a mother would always feel for her child.
It’s the kind of love that can never be equated by a million mistakes. That, in all the imperfect things slowly covering up a child as he grows, all a mother feels is love.
All a mother sees is not the unlovable of a person her child is becoming, but the lovable person he’s always been.
And I realized, it was when my mother looked at me and said nothing that her love screamed louder.
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All praises and glory belong to the Lord Jesus Christ.