Friday, May 12, 2006

You’re A Mother

You’re a mother and the evidence of this sobering fact bears heavily upon your emotional constitution with every passing day. You’ve changed diapers, wiped runny noses, cooked ten thousand meals and washed as many floors. You either have or will experience all the stages attendant with this great title.

The first stage demands your constant attention as your “candle goeth not out by night” explaining that ghosts don’t exist or that nightmares are nothing to worry about. Morning comes sooner than you would like with its verbal barrage of “Billy hit me,” “David’s trying to eat his cereal with a fork,” “Have you seen my underwear mom? Huh? Huh?” You have learned by experience that facing the music at this early hour is merely the prelude of what’s to follow. By nightfall you’ve had it. If you hear one more question like, “Do worms yawn?” or “Where does the white go when the snow melts?” you’ll scream. Each day takes it toll and you pay it faithfully because you’re a mother.

Like a tidal wave, the teenage years break upon the shoreline of your life – unannounced and unprepared for. You trade in your bib for boxing gloves. New demands and new challenges force your hand. Nursery rhymes won’t cut it. You’re a counselor whose sensitivity and advice must be couched in love. You’re dealing with tender hearts that question self worth and life’s values, but you’re always there because you’re a mother.

As your children leave the nest you pose for a different picture. You’re a grandmother and this mountain top experience offers a breathtaking view of the past, present, and future. It gives you a chance to experience the contentment of knowing that you’ve helped to landscape the lives of those whom God lovingly calls “the fruit of the womb.” You’re a bit older and a bit wiser now; and if the truth were known, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. It is for this reason that today and every day we rise up and call you blessed because you’re a mother. That's the way I see things.