Now, listen here, I know you’re busy—maybe checkin’ the weather or gossiping about that so-and-so from down the street. But, come closer, ‘cause I got a story that’ll make you rethink everything you thought you knew about love, especially a mother’s love. I dare you, yes, I double-dog dare you, to make it to the end. Trust me, it’s worth every second of your precious time.

Meeting Florence for the first time, you wouldn’t think she was anything extraordinary. Just an average gal from Davenport, Iowa. A nice lady, with a garden she’s proud of and a pie recipe that’d make your mouth water. But Florence, oh dear friends, was far from ordinary. Her story is nothing short of miraculous.

Now, Florence had a daughter named Jenny. Sweet as pie but troubled from the start. Jenny had made some poor decisions, got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Ended up in a heap of trouble and even did some time. You know how it is; sometimes a good egg can just get scrambled.

One Sunday morning, after the church service where Pastor Williams preached about forgiveness and love, Florence felt a tug at her heart. It wasn’t the first time, mind you. But this time, it was like the Good Lord Himself was nudging her, urging her to take a step she wasn’t sure she was ready to take.

Florence decided to visit Jenny. Despite the warnings from friends, the judgmental glances, and even the occasional, well-meaning, ‘Let her reap what she’s sown’, Florence knew what she had to do. See, a mother’s love? It doesn’t care about boundaries; it bulldozes right through them.

Florence fastened her seatbelt, turned on her old station wagon, and made the journey to that forlorn prison, miles away from her homey comforts. She drove for hours, her aging hands gripping the steering wheel, her mind replaying sweet memories of Jenny as a child—how she used to giggle uncontrollably when Florence tickled her feet.

When she arrived, the guards at the gate were stern but she was not deterred. Inside those concrete walls, she found her daughter broken, empty, but still her little girl. Friends, you should’ve seen Jenny’s face light up when she saw her mama. It was as if all the chains and bars melted away in that moment.

During that visit, Florence did something unexpected. She didn’t lecture or scold. Instead, she listened. She held Jenny’s hand across that cold, steel table and just let her talk. She had not come to remind her of her failures but to remind her of her worth. She saw her daughter through the eyes of a mother’s unconditional love, the kind Jesus spoke about in His parables.

Florence didn’t make just one visit; she made many. Through prayers, letters, and faith, she helped Jenny find her way back. Jenny eventually got out, and thanks be to God, she didn’t return to her old ways. She started a humble little shop, selling trinkets and homemade goods, bringing joy to a community she once left in shame.

See now, I told ya! But don’t just take my word for it, think about your relationships. That cranky neighbor of yours, or a prodigal child or perhaps even your own dear momma who you maybe don’t call enough. A mother’s love is a mighty, unyielding force. It reminds me of how our Heavenly Father loves us—without reservation, without condition, always ready to forgive and embrace.

As I put down my pen, leaving you with Florence’s tale, remember this: love knows no boundaries. It travels through barbed wires, over fences, past locked doors, and into the deepest, darkest prisons. We should all aspire to love like Florence, for her love mirrored God’s love perfectly. That kind of love can change the world, one heart at a time.

Now, if you’ve stuck with me till this very line, I thank ya kindly. Go on, share some love today. Call up that estranged relative, bake that pie for the grumpy old man down the road, or simply hug your loved ones a bit tighter. The world could use a lot more Florence and a lot more of that boundary-crossing love.

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