My mother is an amazing woman, and today just happens to be her birthday. She never wanted to marry or have children, yet somehow managed to raise seven children. When I think realistically about how difficult it was for her; that feat becomes even more incredible to me.
The church my father pastored was small, the congregation was not wealthy. Dad had to work a full-time secular job as well as pastor. In the early days, my mother would clean house for his boss’s wife. I still do not know how they managed to feed us. I do know we had a garden, we picked berries, my brother and Dad went hunting for small game. She baked bread and stretched everything to the absolute limit. Even now, my family has decided when the apocalypse hits, we are going to Grandma’s; she will be stocked up and ready.
One of my earliest memories is of my grandmother rocking me to sleep in her old wooden rocking chair. The reason is for that memory is that my mother and father were both working in either the shoe factory or the pickle factory at that time. Olfactory memories are also some of the strongest earliest memories. I remember my mother’s hands always smelled like wet tissues because she had been crying. It was hard, and there were conflicts. Somehow, God enabled my parents to stick together in spite of it all. Perhaps as children, we should have been shielded from the realities of what they were facing, but there was no way for them to do that. It was our reality, and we just had to deal with it.
Somewhere in the chaos of trying to keep us all together, my mother, out of desperation I believe, came to a place of total dependence on God. If we were going to survive, God was going to have to intervene in our lives. Each of us was given a Biblical name that had a promise connected in some way to it. We were intentionally dedicated to God. She always prayed that if we were not going to follow God as adults, He would take us to heaven as infants when we were still innocent. We are all still alive, so therefore, we had better live up to her, and God’s expectations.
She also learned to pray continually, fervently, and wholeheartedly. Someday, as one of my favorite preachers says, “I want to see the video” of the lives that have been impacted by her prayers. My mother does not tell people lightly that she will pray for them and then forget about it. She carries them on her heart and lifts them to God continually. She also, whenever it is in her power, puts feet to her prayers. She has taken people into her home, fed them, counseled them, nursed them and covered them with prayer– literally, she crochets blankets for people and prays for them while she makes them. She has never been too busy for anyone in need.
How do you thank someone for being this sort of mother? Impossible really. However, now that I have adult children myself, I feel I have a different perspective. What would make me feel most blessed by my children? I know my mother would be blessed if her children would do the following:
Surrender our lives to God and actively follow His will, completely.
Live with awareness and compassion for the needy people around us.
Do not whine and complain, recognize that all we have is a gift from God and be thankful.
Accept the mantle to pray for our children with the fervency and faith that she has shown in her prayers for us.
Share our lives with her. So, yeah, call her more often; visit her as often as humanly possible.
Promise her that she will see us in heaven someday.
Proverbs 31:28-31
“28 Her children rise up
and call her blessed;
her
husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women have done excellently,
but
you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but
a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
31 Give her of the fruit of her hands,
and
let her works praise her in the gates.”
Thank you, Mom!