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Mother’s Day:  this is the day mothers are rewarded for washing sheets in the middle of the night, driving children to school when they missed the bus, enduring all those football games in the rain. It's a day of appreciation for making your children finish something they said they couldn't do, not believing them when they said, 'I hate you,' and sharing their good times and their bad."

 

We all know that, mothers are teachers, disciplinarians, cleaning ladies, gardeners, nurses, psychologists, counsellors, chauffeurs and coaches.

 

Mothers are developers of personalities, moulders of vocabularies, & shapers of attitudes. Mothers are soft voices saying, "I love you." And mothers are a link to God, a child's first impression of God's love. Mothers are all these things & much, much more.

 

A favourite story tells of God in the act of creating mothers.  The day God created mothers He had already worked overtime. And an angel said to Him, "God you are spending a lot of time on this one."

 

God said, "Have you read the specs on this model?

She is supposed to be completely washable, but no

t plastic. She is to have 180 moving parts, all of them

replaceable. She is to have a kiss that will heal

everything from a broken leg to a broken heart.

 

“She is to have a lap that will disappear whenever

she stands up. She is to be able to function on black

coffee and leftovers. And she is supposed to have

six pairs of hands."

 

"Six pairs of hands," said the angel, "that's impossible."

"It's not the six pairs of hands that bother me," said God,

"It's the three pairs of eyes. She is supposed to have

one pair that sees through closed doors so that

whenever she says, 'What are you children doing in

there?' she already knows what they're doing in there."

 

"She has another pair in the back of her head to see all the things she is not supposed to see but must see. And then she has one pair right in front that can look at a child and say I love you without uttering a word.”

 

"That's too much." said the angel, "You can't put that much in one model. Why don't you rest now and start creating tomorrow?"

 

                                                                                                 "No, I can't," said God. "I'm close to creating someone

                                                                                                   very much like myself. I've already come up with a

                                                                                                   model who can heal herself when she is sick  who

                                                                                                   can feed a family of six with one pound of mince,

                                                                                                   and who can persuade a nine year old to take a                                                                                                                                                                                                        

                                                                                                   shower."

                                                                                                    Then the angel looked at the model of motherhood

                                                                                                    a little more closely and  said, "She's too soft." "Oh,

                                                                                                    but she is tough," said God . "You'd be surprised at

                                                                                                    how much this mother can do."

 

                                                                                                  "Can she think?" asked the angel. "Not only can she

                                                                                                   think," said God, "but she can reason, compromise

                                                                                                   and persuade."

 

Then the angel reached over and touched her cheek. "This one has a leak," he said. "I told you that you couldn't put that much in one model." "That's not a leak," said God. "That's a tear."

 

"What's a tear for?" asked the angel. "Well it's for joy, sadness, sorrow, disappointment, and for pride." "You're a genius," said the angel. And the God said, "Oh, but I didn't put it there."

 

 

Being a Mother or a parent is not easy. Sometimes you're filled with joy and sometimes with sadness. Sometimes your children make you so proud you want to shout. At other times you can't find enough handkerchiefs to dry your tears.

 

I can understand the feelings of the mother with 3 children who was asked, "If you had it all to do over again, would you have children?" "Yes," she replied, "but not the same ones."

 

We need concern for our children. What good is it if our children grow up and are successful in making money, driving posh cars  and living in their own houses but they don't know God? What does it matter if they gain the whole world, but lose their souls?

 

I hope that in the heart of every mother and father, grandparent, godparent, all of us, there is a burden to go to the throne of God and to pray for your children - to pray that they will be safe and know that God loves them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the story do you remember God saying as He was creating a mother, "I am close to creating something very much like myself?"

 

It is because a mother’s love is probably the closest example we have to God's love. It is a love that goes through the valley of the shadow of death to bring life into being. It is a love that sacrifices itself over and over again, and would even dare to lay down its life for its own offspring.

 

I will end with a sad but true story from WW2.

Solomon Rosenberg, his wife, 2 sons and his parents, were in a Nazi concentration camp. The rules were simple. "As long as you can do your work, you are permitted to live. When you become too weak to do your work, then you are exterminated."

 

Rosenberg watched his mother and father marched off to their deaths, and he knew that next would be his youngest son, David, because David had always been a frail child.

 

Every evening Rosenberg came back into the barracks after his hours of labour and searched for the faces of his family. When he found them they would huddle together, embrace one another, and thank God for another day of life.

 

One day Rosenberg came back and didn't see those familiar faces. He finally discovered his oldest son, Joshua, in a corner, crying. He said, "Josh, tell me it's not true." Joshua turned & said, "It is true, poppa. Today David was not strong enough to do his work. So they came for him."

 

"But where is your mother?" asked Mr. Rosenberg. "Oh poppa," he said, "When they came for David, he was afraid and he cried. Mother said, 'There is nothing to be afraid of, David,' and she took his hand and went with him."

 

That is motherhood. Mothers, this is your day. May God bless you in it. And I pray that if you have felt or will in the future, that you have had to walk through that valley alone, that you will recognize that there is a hand reaching out to you, saying, "There is nothing to be afraid of. I'll go with you."

Mother's Day

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