mothers

by Amber Mann Riggs Our eyes would connect at our church service each week as we sought one another out to embrace. Her eyes, tired from the failing health associated with a long-life-well-lived – and mine, exhausted from a lack of sleep well-known to mothers of four young children. Unrelated except through the blood of Christ, she let me call her Grandma Marybell, and I delighted in hearing her South Texas drawl pronounce me a granddaughter. We had only been part of the same congregation for a few years, so over the span of her life we actually spent relatively little [...]