"Taking Mother's Hand"
When a boy or girl thrusts his small hand in yours, it may be smeared with chocolate ice cream, or grimy from petting a dog, and there may be a wart under the right thumb and a bandage around the little finger.
But the most important thing about his hands is that they are the hands of the future. These are the hands that someday may hold a Bible or a Colt revolver; play the church piano or spin a gambling wheel; gently dress a leper's wound, or tremble wretchedly uncontrolled by an alcoholic mind.
Right now, that hand is yours. It asks for help and guidance. It represents a full-fledged personality in miniature to be respected as a separate individual whose day-to-day growth into Christian adulthood is your responsibility.
Most often when we think of Mom,
We think of what she's given:
A gentle guide for living;
A nightly tip-toe in a room,
An understanding look;
But sometimes when I think of Mom
I think of what she took.
She took a child and taught it how
To live this life with pride
She took those kindergarten tears,
And kept them all inside.
She took the hands that longed to hold
Her child and not let go
Used them to push her child along
The way, to thrive and grow.
Took time to do some other things
Like sew, and clean and cook,
And never thought to ask for thanks
For all the things she took.
©Judith Bond, 1987
Who is she?
Once upon a time, there was a child ready to be born.
The child asked god, "They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow, but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?"
God replied, "Among the many angels, I chose one for you. Your angel will be waiting for you and will take care of you."
The child further inquired, "But tell me, here in heaven I don't have to do anything but sing and smile to be happy."
God said, "Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you everyday. And you will feel your angel's love and be happy."
Again the child asked, "And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me if I don't know the language?"
God said, "Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak."
"And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?"
God said, "Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray."
"I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?"
God said, "Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its own life."
"But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."
God said, "Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you."
At that moment there was much peace in heaven, but voices from earth could be heard and the child hurriedly asked, "God, if I am to leave now, please tell me my angel's name."
"Her name is not important. You will simply call her Mom."
GREAT PEOPLE HAD GREAT MOTHERS
Charles Spurgeon: “I can tell you two reasons why I am what I am; my mother and the truth of my message.”
Martin Luther: “Much of the blessing of my life was due to the influence of my mother.”
Dwight L. Moody: “All that I have ever accomplished in life I owe to my mother.”
Abraham Lincoln: “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”
God Chooses A Mom for A Disabled Child
"Armstrong, Beth; son; patron saint, Matthew.
"Forrest, Marjorie; daughter; patron saint, Cecelia.
"Rudledge, Carrie; twins; patron saint.... give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."
"But has she patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence. She'll have to teach the child to live in her world and that's not going to be easy."
"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."
God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."
The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't seperate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, there is a woman I will bless with a child less then perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word.' She will never consider a 'step' ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.
"I will permit her to see clearly the things I see --- ignorance, cruelty, prejudice --- and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."
"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in midair.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."
I am a mother's prayer.
I am sometimes clothed in beautiful language that has been stitched together with the needles of love in the quiet chambers of the heart, and sometimes I am arrayed only in the halting phrases interrupted by tears, which have been torn like living roots from the deep soil of human emotion.
I am a frequent watcher of the night. I have often seen the dawn break over the hills and flood the valleys with light and the dew of the gardens has been shaken from my eyes as I waited and cried at the gates of God.
I am a mother's prayer: there is no language I cannot speak; and no barrier of race or color causes my feet to stumble.
I am born before the child is born, and ere the day of deliverance comes, I have often stood at the altar of the Lord with the gift of an unborn life in my hands, blending my joyful and tearful voice with the prayers and tears of Thee father.
I have rushed ahead of the nurse through the corridors of the hospital praying that the babe would be perfect, and I have sat dumb and mute in the presence of delight over a tiny bit of humanity, so overwhelmed I have been able to do nothing but strike my fingers on the harps of gratitude and say, "Well, thank the Lord!"
I am a mother's prayer: I have watched over the cradle; I have sustained a whole household while we waited for a doctor to come. I have mixed medicine and held up a thermometer that read 104 degrees. I have sighed with relief over the sweat in the little one's curls because the crisis was past.
I have stood in a funeral home to help make arrangements for a cremation of a granddaughter, and to help pick out a little cute urn for the ashes. And cast my arms around the promises of God to just hang on and wait until I could feel underneath me the everlasting arms.
I am a mother's prayer: I have filled pantries with provision when the earthly provided was gone.
I have sung songs in the night when there was nothing to sing about but the faithfulness of God.
I have been pressed so close to the promises of the Word that the imprint of their truth is fragrant about me.
I have lingered on the lips of the dying like a trembling melody echoed from Heaven.
I am a mother's prayer:
I am still here: and as long as God is God, and truth is truth, and the promises of God are "yes and amen," I will continue to woo the win and strive and plead with the boys and girls whose mothers are in Glory, but whose ambassador
I have been appointed by the King Emanuel.
I am a mother's prayer. . . . .
FOR MY CHILDREN
I do not ask for riches for my children, Nor even recognition for their skill; I only asked that Thou wilt give them A heart completely yielded to Thy will.
I do not ask for wisdom for my children Beyond discernment of Thy grace; I only ask that Thou wilt use them In Thine own appointed place.
I do not ask for favors for my children To seat them on Thy left hand or Thy right; But may they join the throng in heaven That sings before Thy throne so bright.
I do not seek perfection in my children, For then my own faults I would hide; I only ask that we might walk together And serve our Savior side by side.
A MOTHER’S LOVE
Some day when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a mother, I will tell them:
I loved you enough to ask about where you were going, with whom and what time you would get home.
I loved you enough to insist that you buy a bike, that we could afford to give you, with your own money.
I loved you enough to make you return a Milky-Way— with a bite out of it—to the drug store and to confess "I stole this."
I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your room, a job that would have taken me 15 minutes.
I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, disgust and tears in my eyes.
I loved you enough to admit I was wrong and ask for your forgiveness.
I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall and hurt.
But most of all, I loved you enough to say NO when you hated me for it. That was the hardest part of all.
When Jesus was a boy did he
A Mother's Love
A Mother's love is something that no on can explain,
The Mother of the Prodigal Son
Where was the mother of the prodigal son
"The Meanest Mother"
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate
I Took His Hand and Followed
Mrs. Roy L. Peifer
My dishes went unwashed today,
I didn't make the bed,
I took his hand and followed
Where his eager footsteps led.
Oh yes, we went adventuring,
My little son and I...
Exploring all the great outdoors
Beneath the summer sky
We waded in a crystal stream,
We wandered through a wood...
My kitchen wasn't swept today
But life was gay and good.
We found a cool, sun-dappled glade
And now my small son knows
How Mother Bunny hides her nest
Where jack-in-the-pulpit grows.
We watched a robin feed her young,
We climbed a sunlit hill...
Saw cloud-sheep scamper through the sky,
We plucked a daffodil.
That my house was neglected,
That I didn't brush the stairs,
In twenty years, no one on earth
Will know, or even care.
But that I've helped my little boy
To noble manhood grow,
In twenty years, the whole wide world
May look and see and know.
THE MOST CREATIVE JOB IN THE WORLD
ANYONE WHO CAN HANDLE ALL THOSE HAS TO BE SOMEONE SPECIAL SHE IS!
SHE’S A HOMEMAKER
- Moms write on the heart of their children that which the world cannot rub off.
- Who of us is mature enough for offspring, before the offspring themselves arrive? For the value of a Mom is not that adults produce children but that children produce adults.
- A Mother is a women who can take the place of others but who’s place no one else can take.
- A Mother is a gardener planting the seeds of faith, truth, and love that develop into the fairest flowers of character, virtue, and happiness in the lives of her children.
Sayings of King Lemuel1 The sayings of King Lemuel—an inspired utterance his mother taught him.
2 Listen, my son! Listen, son of my womb!
Listen, my son, the answer to my prayers!
3 Do not spend your strength[
4 It is not for kings, Lemuel—
it is not for kings to drink wine,
not for rulers to crave beer,
5 lest they drink and forget what has been decreed,
and deprive all the oppressed of their rights.
6 Let beer be for those who are perishing,
wine for those who are in anguish!
7 Let them drink and forget their poverty
and remember their misery no more.
8 Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves,
for the rights of all who are destitute.
9 Speak up and judge fairly;
defend the rights of the poor and needy.
Epilogue: The Wife of Noble Character
10 on women,
your vigor on those who ruin kings.
A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
11 Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
12 She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
13 She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.
14 She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.
15 She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her female servants.
16 She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
18 She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night.
19 In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
20 She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.
21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
22 She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
Are you thinking
It’s Mother’s Day--
I’ll just skip church that day!
Yep, only the perfectly approved Proverbs 31 ladies will attend with their family all in tow.
The greeters at the church door will hand out flowers to these truly fine ladies, the sermon will praise them, and their mates will take them out to the finest restaurants to dine after the service.
Definitely God bless them and their families --
- The abused women
- The abandoned women
- The divorced women
- The mother of an illegitimate child
- The mom who has a child in prison
- The mentally, physically, or emotional ill women
- The spiritually hungry women
Moses’ mother how successful did she feel when her son murdered
Mary how successful did she feel while her son hung from a cross
David’s Mom-- that adulterer how dare he embarrass her
Sampson’ Mom-- the blinded by lust son
- On and on the list could go!
- My son/daughter the alcoholic
- My son/daughter the thief
- My son/daughter the liar
- My son/daughter the (you fill in the blank) -------------
MOTHERS ARE AN INFLUENCE FOR GOOD AND EVIL
HANNAH: A MOTHER OF SUPPLICATION 1 sameual 1:10-19
SARAH: A MOTHER OF FAITH Hebrews 11:11-12
JOCHEBED: A MOTHER OF COURAGE Numbers 26:59 Exodus 2:2
MARY: A MOTHER OF SACRIFICE Luke 1:26-38
RUTH: A QUEENLY MOTHER Ruth 1:1-6, 22
THE INFLUENCE OF A MOTHER Ezekiel 16:44
This morning my thoughts traveled along
To a place in my life where days have since gone
Beholding an image of what I used to be
As visions were stirred and God spoke to me.
He showed me a Warrior, a soldier in place
Positioned by Heaven, yet I saw no face
I watched as the Warrior fought enemies
That came from the darkness with destruction for me.
I saw as the Warrior would dry away tears
As all of Heaven’s angels hovered so near
I saw many wounds on the Warrior’s face
Yet weapons of warfare were firmly in place.
I felt my heart weeping, my eyes held so much
As God let me feel the Warrior’s prayer touch
I thought, "how familiar", the words that were prayed
The prayers were like lightning that never would fade.
I said to God, "Please, tell me the Warrior’s name."
He gave no reply, He chose to refrain
I asked, "Lord, who is broken that they need such prayer?"
He showed me an image of myself standing there.
Bound by confusion, lost and alone
I felt the prayers of the Warrior carry me home
I asked, “Please show me, Lord, this Warrior so true.”
I watched and I wept,
FOR MOTHER.....THE WARRIOR WAS YOU!
By Larry S. Clark
When God Made Mothers
By the time the Lord made mothers, he was into the sixth day working overtime. An Angel appeared and said "Why are you spending so much time on this one?"
And the Lord answered and said, "Have you read the spec sheet on her? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have 200 movable parts, all replaceable; run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that can hold three children at one time and that disappears when she stands up; have a kiss that can cure anything from a scrape knee to a broken heart; and have six pairs of hands."
The Angel was astounded at the requirements for this one. "Six pairs of hands! No Way!" said the Angel.
The Lord replied, Oh, it's not the hands that are the problem. It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers must have!"
"And that's on the standard model?" the Angel asked. The Lord nodded in agreement, "Yep, one pair of eyes are to see through the closed door as she asks her children what they are doing even though she already knows. Another pair in the back of her head, are to see what she needs to know even though no one thinks she can. And the third pair are here in the front of her head. They are for looking at an errant child and saying that she understands and loves him or her without even saying a single word."
The Angel tried to stop the Lord. "This is too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."
"But I can't!" The Lord protested, "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick and can feed a family of six on a pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand in the shower."
The Angel moved closer and touched the woman, "But you have made her so soft, Lord."
"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."
"Will she be able to think?" Asked the angel.
The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason, and negotiate."
The Angel then noticed something and reached out and touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak with this model. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."
"That's not a leak." the Lord objected. "That's a tear!"
"What's the tear for?" the Angel asked.
The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her disappointment, her pain, her loneliness, her grief, and her pride."The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her disappointment, her pain, her loneliness, her grief, and her pride."
The Angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything for this one. You even created the tear!"
The Lord looked at the Angel and smiled and said, "I'm afraid you are wrong again, my friend. I created the woman, but she created the tear!"
Author Erma Bombeck
THIS POEM WAS MAILED TO A MOTHER
|An Old Angel's Cry |
While sleeping one night I had a dream.
It left a tale to tell.
I dreamed I saw an angel,
and she wasn't looking well.
Her body was bruised and battered
Her wings were ripped and torn.
I saw that she could barely walk.
She was tired. Her hope was worn.
I walked over then and I asked her
I said "Angel, How could this be?"
She tried to smile as she gathered her thoughts;
Then these words she said to me.
"I am your guardian angel, quite a task as you can see.
You've lived a very wild life, with that you must agree.
You've broken laws and broken hearts.
What you see you've done to me."
"These bruises are from shielding you,
I do my best even still.
The drugs you've used so dangerously,
I've often paid the bill."
"My wings you see are ripped and torn,
a noble badge I bear.
So many times they've shielded you,
from perils you were unaware."
"Yes, each mark tells a story,
of pains and dangers I've destroyed.
You've made me wish more times than once,
that I were unemployed."
"If only you would embrace life,
and choose to do so on your own.
It would stop your pain and suffering,
that comes from being alone."
"I will always be here to watch over you,
until my powers fail.
As for when that will be.....
all I can say is I'm getting old and frail."
When I awoke from the dream,
I thought about the angel and how much she seemed to care.
Then I looked around at these prison walls,
and my heart sank in despair.
As for some kind of life within these walls
I wondered....why even try?
Then distantly I thought I heard
A frail old angel cry.