I was at a friend's house last week for a Christmas party with some of my girlfriends. We were having a wonderful time munching on some veggies when I decide to venture around and explore this house I had never been to before. I noticed a beautiful china cabinet in the living room, and decided to take a look. As I approached the cabinet I realized it contained a tea cup collection. Appreciating such a collection, I looked closer and then I gasped! As I looked over the beautiful china I noticed several cups that were identical to those my mother-in-law owned. Memories began flooding my soul. And for those of you who know me, you can guess my immediate reaction. Insta-tears!My friend Charlotte hugged me and asked me about this wonderful woman I was lucky enough to call Mom for a short period of time. You see, I really began to appreciate the art of tea when I met Matt's mother, Paula. Often she and I would sit and drink a cup of tea together as others ran around doing chores or errands. She would open up her china cabinet and tell me to pick out my favorite cup and then ask me to choose a tea. We always drank apricot tea. For years I thought it was her favorite tea, until I realized she had a different tea for each friend. She must have had dozens of "favorite" teas. She was that kind of a woman. She loved what you loved and made you feel special and welcomed by something as simple as a cup of tea.
Mom's breast cancer relapsed about a year after I met her. Her health was on a downward spiral from that point on, but her faith and our cups of tea together never faltered. Over our steaming cups of apricot wonderfulness, she would tell me stories of her childhood, of her father, mother and sister, of her marriage to the only man she ever loved, and her relationship with her Savior who she knew would heal her.
There are sad memories, too. Like massaging her arm to release the fluids when the pain from the lymphoma was so bad that she broke down and cried in front of me. And in the midst of all the dysfunction of cancer, I remember laughing with her when she somberly admitted that she had no hair. (Apparently the fact that she wore a wig or a turban 24-7 was not enough of of clue!)
God did heal Mom. During Matt and my baccalaureate service, we received a call that Mom went home to be with the Lord. Despite our loss, we found relief in knowing that she was no longer in pain, and that her Savior had healed her perfectly. She was not in attendance at our wedding nor did she have the opportunity to see any of her grandchildren, but her presence is always with us. And this Christmas, as I drink my cup of tea, I will honor her memory. I will remember Mom, and tell my children her story. I will think of how she is in heaven now probably making new friends, and sharing a new "favorite tea". And I will smile through my tears because I was blessed enough to have been graced with her love in my life.
Lord, This Christmas I thank you for the lives you have brought into my life. Thank you for the precious gift you gave me in Paula, and thank you for keeping her memory alive in me. Help us all to cherish the time we have with loved ones, and not take their love and life for granted. This Christmas we thank you for the gift of love that you gave to us in the baby Jesus, and that you demonstrate through the lives of those you have brought into our path. Amen
