In keeping with today’s readings and, indirectly, Mother’s Day, our pastor’s homily this morning was about love.  He related his experience of a scripture discussion group earlier in the week during which the participants contemplated who had taught them about love.  It’s interesting to notice your first, intuitive response to that question:  Who taught you about love?  Who pops to mind?  For me, it was my maternal grandmother, Julia Cunningham Wimberg.  She is synonymous with Love simply for being present to me through a traumatic time in my life after the death of her daughter, my mother, when I was 7 years old.  She came over to our house at least weekly when we got home from school.  We spent many weekends with her and my grandpa.  She took me to orthodontic appointments.  Looking back, nothing grand stands out; rather, it’s the steady stream of ordinariness that bore “fruit that lasts.”

Photo by David Stephenson via Flickr under a Creative Commons license