Dear Heavenly Father,
This Mother's Day week has been quite active and I truly appreciate the kindnesses of private messages with ministry support, phone calls, visits, gifts, cards, wine, fruit basket, & flowers that have been given to me. (Please bless those who have blessed me.)
The joy of a sweet sister-in-Christ dropping by & the challenge she dished out as she gave me 4 cards of encouragement that I was to give out to 4 other women (which I did obediently with much delight and all to extremely receptive strangers!)
But it is the womb where my heart of prayer is this morning -- the place within each human were seeds of hope and dreams come alive. These seeds of accomplishments for mankind just seem to stay dormant until you call them forth from within us for your kingdom purposes.
Women of dreams and vision are ever busy planting good seeds within those around them. Dreams of being a good wife, a pretty lady, a talented musician, a supportive Mom to a handicapped child, a kind & helpful neighbor, a business owner, a graduate (the list is endless) so many dreams in the womb of life within each heart.
All to often those dreams are aborted to much sorrow and regret. Confidence and boldness ripped from a person's life as disaster, sickness, job loss, death or some catastrophe overpowers and hope and faith is stolen. I have tasted these bitter trials and know how overwhelming they can be.
Yet you Lord, come in with love, grace, and mercy to clean up the debris, cultivate the soil of the heart, and plant new seeds for a 2nd chance. And amazingly have no end to your supply of those 2nd chances.
I know there are women hurting today -- women who maybe had a miscarriage, women who's child was ripped from the home because of abuse of some form, women who lost a loved one to a serious accident, women who are tending family members with cancer or Alzheimer, women who's home has just been repossessed, women who's mate just walked out the door and women in prisons of various sorts or chained by alcohol, drugs, etc..
For these women of shattered dreams I pray today -- that you Lord would hold them in your arms and comfort them with your assurance that you are there surrounding them with your mighty strength and that the trials and storms of life they are passing through will not over take them.
I believe that you have many seed blessings stored up in spiritual wombs of women of this day that you wish to use to bless this generation with and that will you will supply every need and replace everything devoured, lost, or stolen during these struggles they are in with a brighter tomorrow.
I pray that you pour out your blessings are women-hood today, help make us the women you so designed us to be and that we find described in Proverbs 31.
Help us Lord to be encouraging, forgiving, and supportive of one another each and every day.
In Jesus mighty name I pray, Amen.

"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.

Mother’s look different then other women. Their hair isn’t always done in the latest style, and sometimes it isn’t done at all. A mother is a woman who can bake a cake with six other hands helping her, and still have it turn out fine.
Mother’s shoulders sometimes smell of sour milk, and if you are very observant, you’ll notice safety pin holes in her clothes – even her Sunday best.
Mothers frequently have runs in their hose. Likely as not, Junior didn’t park his trike off the sidewalk.
A mother is different. She likes chicken wings and backs – things that the kids and Daddy don’t care for. She never takes the last chop on the plate, and she always saves the candy from her tray at the Club to bring home to the children.
A mother may not have ulcers but she has versatile tears. They show anger, weariness, hurt or happiness. Once when Daddy forgot an anniversary, Mother cried. One Saturday he brought home chocolates when it wasn’t her birthday or anything and she cried then, too.
A mother is someone who can repair the kitchen sink with only her hands – after Daddy has spent a lot of time trying with tools and plenty of cuss words.
When a mother dies, she must face Him with her record of accomplishments. If she’s done a good job of caring for her children, she’ll get the most sought-after position in Heaven, that of rocking baby angels on soft white clouds, and wiping their celestial tears with the corner of her apron.


Most often when we think of Mom,
We think of what she's given:
The softness of a loving touch,
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.
Thanks, Mom.
©Judith Bond, 1987

Remember some forms of Moms didn't give natural birth -- but they gave natural love and creation to children by having a Motherly heart. Some taught school, or Sunday school, some adopted, some were foster or step parents, some were missionaries, and some were just kindly relatives or neighbors-- yet each gave beauty to a child's life, because that's what Mothering does best.

Randy Travis Angel

Who is she?
Just who is she, this phantom sage
Who sets the rules for every age?
Her curfew’s always later than
The one you’ve set, and her kids can
Go places your are not allowed,
And mingle with a faster crowd;
They get permission you’d refuse,
And get to wear the clothes they choose;
Her children are not given chores,
But get more money than yours;
What is her name, and where’s she from,
This "Everybody Else’s Mom?"

Mary Margaret DeAngelis

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."

Supermarket Flowers - Ed Sheeran

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.”

“Mothers are fonder than fathers of their children
because they are more certain they are their own.”   

God Chooses A Mom for A Disabled Child
by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"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. . . . .

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.
Phyllis Didriksen

Erma Bombeck
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
Swing on the gates of Galilee,
Bring home foundling pups and kittens,
Scuff his sandals, lose his mittens,
Weight his pockets with a treasure
Adult eyes can never measure,
Scratch his hands and stub his toes
On rocky hills where cactus grows,
Set stones and quills and bits of thread
On the windowsill beside his bed
So that on waking he could see
All yesterday’s bright prophecy?
Did he play tag with the boys next door,
Tease for sweets in the grocery store,
Whittle and smooth a spinning top
In his father’s carpenter shop,
Run like wind to sail his kite,
Smile and sigh in his sleep at night,
Laugh with you in long-lost springs
About a thousand small, endearing things?
Is he the one that said that you
Should always dye your dresses blue?
With eyes bright as cinnamon silk,
Red lips ringed with a mist
Did he … lifting his earthen cup
Say: “Just wait until I grow up”?
By Mary O’Neill

A Mother's Love
A Mother's love is something that no on can explain,
It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain,

It is endless and unselfish and enduring come what may
For nothing can destroy it or take that love away . . .

It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking,
And it never fails or falter even though the heart is breaking . . .

It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns,
And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems . . .

It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation,
And it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation . . .

A many splendored miracle man cannot understand
And another wondrous evidence of God's tender guiding hand.
~Helen Steiner Rice~

The Mother of the Prodigal Son
Where was the mother of the prodigal son
On that day so long ago?
What were her thoughts
And what were her fears
As she watched him turn to go?

How many times in the dark of night
Did the tears slide down her face?
Did she get out of bed
And fall on her knees,
Just to pray that her boy was safe?

How were the days when she did not know.
Was he alive? Was he warm? Was he well?
Who were his friends?
And where did he sleep?
Was there anyone there she could tell?

But, oh, on that day when she looked
down the road
As she had looked since her son went away,
Did love unspeakable flood her soul?
Did she cry?
What did she say?

I think when the father had welcomed their son
And the boy had greeting his brother,
That the servants made a path
For him to enter the door
And the waiting arms of his mother.

"The Meanest Mother"
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate
candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others
had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can
guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also.
But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two
brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd
think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and
where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that
we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly
ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each
time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was
used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you
imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now
you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always
wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because
she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we
have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night
and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our
friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break
the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make
beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid
awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life
became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for
us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates
and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a
girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really
there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a
boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were
dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused
to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you
dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie
in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends
had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home
from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends'
report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for
failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for
nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put
to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind
us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the
pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four
children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us
have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my
brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we
have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our
mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a
protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a
million and one other things that our friends did.
She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three
children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my
children call me mean.
Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in
the whole world.

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. 

It involves taste, fashion, decoration, recreation, education, transportation, psychology, romance, cuisine, designing, literature, medicine, handicraft, art, horticulture, economics, government, community relations, pediatrics, geriatrics, entertainment, maintenance, purchasing, direct mail, law, accounting, religions, energy and management.

No Charge by Melba Montgomery
  • 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.

26 Cents-The Wilkinsons (lyrics video)

Proverbs 31
Sayings of King Lemuel
1 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 --
but please preachers don’t diminish the other Mothers who don’t have all the Proverbs skills.
  • 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) -------------
These things shout to the hurting broken heart of a mother tormented by Satan that she wasn’t perfect, isn’t perfect, and may never be perfect. Yet she loves! And loves unconditionally! Hoping and praying for a better day.


SARAH: A MOTHER OF FAITH Hebrews 11:11-12
JOCHEBED: A MOTHER OF COURAGE Numbers 26:59 Exodus 2:2





The Warrior
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,

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

Jamie O'Neal - Somebody's Hero



"MOM,  this kinda reminds me of you

Thanks -- I love you lots"

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.

 author unknown

Don't Forget To Remember Me Carrie UnderWood Lyrics

Dolly Parton Linda Ronstadt Emmylou Harris - The Sweetest Gift

Jimmy Dean - I.O.U.  

Jimmy Dean (RIP 1928-2010) - Mama Sang A Song  

Diamond Rio - Mama Don't Forget To Pray For Me

Glen Campbell The hand that rocks the cradle

Based on Matt. 20:20-28
By Pastor Glenn Pease

One of the paradoxes of life is the many famous people we don't even know, and many of them are mothers. F.W. Boreham, the great Australian preacher, tells of the English mother Mrs. Trollope who saw her husband and children dying of consumption under her very eyes. She nursed them and supported them by writing novels. She had a life of awful burdens, yet she wrote with such liveliness. When her books were successful she inspired her children to write as well. They wrote more books than was ever produced by a single family in England. This mother watched her husband, two sons, and her daughter die, yet she made it a home of cheer and success.

History is full of great mothers like this that we will never know about, and the fact is there are even famous mothers right in the Bible we know little or nothing about. If it was not for Mother's Day that sends preachers searching the Bible for a different mother to study each year, many of these mothers would be ignored forever. One of the most famous mothers in the New Testament is the mother of Zebedee's sons James and John. Mark tells us her name was Salome. She was a very famous person in the New Testament, and she played a major role in the life of Jesus, but since we seldom put all the pieces together she is an obscure person to most Christians. I hardly knew she existed, but now I see her as one of the most marvelous mothers in the Bible.

Her husband Zebedee was a very successful and well known businessman with a large fishing company. He had two sons working for him, and Peter and Andrew worked for the company as well, and he had other hired hands besides. Salome was the mother of a fairly wealthy family. She was upper middle class at least, and this explains her desire for her two boys to be number one and two in the Master's kingdom. This text alone could lead us to think of her as a spoiled rich mother who expected the best to be just handed to her children, but the whole story demands that we look at a bigger picture of this mother.

She was one of the women who followed Jesus and who, because of her wealth, supported Jesus and his disciples while they ministered to people. Matt. 27:56 lists her as one of the women who followed Jesus and cared for his needs. She was one of the group of women who stood at the cross in Mark 15, and she was one of three women who came with spices to anoint the body of Jesus on the first Easter in Mark 16. In other words, Salome was not a rich snob who thought she was better than anyone else. She was a loyal servant of Jesus who followed him all the way when others forsook him. She used her wealth right to the end in buying spices for the body of Jesus. She was a truly remarkable disciple and one faithful to the end.

She is the only mother of the twelve that is referred to in the New Testament, and she is the mother of two of the twelve that Jesus picked for his disciples, and these two were in the inner circle with Peter. This tells you something about the character and quality of Salome. She was one of Jesus' favorite mothers, and favorite people, so let's not be quick to judge this lady, but learn from her as we examine her most motherly role in the life of her sons. The first thing we note is-


The NIV is weak here and says she came to Jesus and kneeling down asked a favor. This could be seen as some sort of courtesy. The KJV is really more accurate, for its says she came worshipping him. The Greek word here is proskunew and is translated 59 times as worship in the New Testament. A few examples will show just how weak the word kneeling is to describe it. It is the word for the wise men who came from the East to worship him. It is the word Jesus used to respond to the devil's temptation when he said, "Thou shalt worship the Lord Thy God." It is the word Jesus used to say, "We must worship the Father in spirit and in truth." It is the word in Heb. 1:6, "Let all the angels of God worship him." It is the word for all the worship around the throne of God in heaven.

My point is, all the evidence makes it clear that Salome was a deeply committed godly mother who acknowledged the Lordship of Jesus. We see here a sincere recognition of Jesus and his authority. She had no doubts about Jesus being the Messiah. Almost everybody else did, and even her two sons lost faith in the end, but Salome never did. They were off weeping in fear when she stood at the cross, and was early at the tomb. She was a woman of strong faith and commitment, and was no doubt the key factor in her two boys being men whom Jesus could use to build his kingdom. A mother's faith is often the key to her children's faith. Paul wrote in II Tim. 1:5, "I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice..."

Faith is personal, but it can be passed on from mother to child. Lois passed hers on to her daughter Eunice, and Eunice passed it on to her son Timothy. Salome passed hers on to her sons. No other mother is more honored than she with two of her sons chosen to be among the 12. The point of this first point is, do not look down on this precious mother, but respect her as one of the greatest followers and worshippers of Jesus. Her reverence for Christ makes her a mother to be highly respected, even though she expected too much for her sons. Secondly look at-
All she wanted was the best for her boys. If this be wrong, then most mothers are offensive people. For they all tend to have this same ambition. Her evaluation of her boys was not just a mother's subjective preference. At some point most all mothers feel their children are the brightest and worthy of top billing. But Salome was going by their objective abilities. They were successful businessmen, and they had excellent qualities of leadership. We know this because Jesus chose them as disciples, and he chose her boys to be two of the three in the inner circle. They were not one and two like she requested, but they were two and three. Jesus by his choice of James and John as his closest friends and companions acknowledges that Salome had done a great job as a mother, and her ambition for her boys was not that far out of line. Jesus did not rebuke her for her request. He just said it was not his to grant, for God had already made that decision. And for all we know, one of her boys will be at the right or left of Jesus in his kingdom.
There is an old Greek legend of how the gods summoned gifted people to Olympus to reward with a crown the one with the greatest gift. The artist brought his paintings; the sculptor his statues; the farmer the fruits of his field; the poet his poems, and the inventor his machines. Among them was an old woman with nothing in her hands. "Why are you here with nothing in your hands?" she was asked, and she replied, "I am here just to look on. I wanted to see who received the crown. These are my children." The judges said, "Give her the crown, for she trained and inspired them all."
The evidence points to Salome deserving a lot of credit for her boys being the kind of Christians they were. And she was not content that they were among the twelve, but was still pushing that they might be the elite of the twelve. She represents those mothers who change the world because of their ambition for their children.
A young boy of ten in Naples took his first voice lesson and was told by the teacher, "You can't sing. You haven't any voice at all. Your voice sounds like the wind in the shutters." The boys mother did not accept that evaluation. She had visions of her son being great, and though she was poor she made every sacrifice to pay for his voice lessons. She encouraged him to press on when everyone else was applying the brakes. Had it not been for this mother's ambition for her son the world would never have heard of Enrico Caruso, one of its greatest singers ever. If mothers do not have high aims for their children, who will?
It was Jochabed, the mother of Moses, who saved his life and provided Israel with its greatest leader. It was Rebekah who saw in Jacob great potential, and she got him the birthright. It was the godly mothers of Samson and Samuel that made them the leaders that they were. John the Baptist was raised by a godly mother, Elizabeth. Lincoln said, "All that I am and hope to be I owe to my angel mother." Washington said, "If I have been of any service to the U.S. America, the credit all belongs to my wonderful mother.
The point is, volumes could be filled showing that it is the ambition of mothers that motivates children to be the best of what they can be. Do you think James and John would be disciples, let alone two out of three of the inner circle, if they had not had a mother like Salome? It is not likely. The evidence points to her being one of the most successful mothers in the Bible. The rest of the disciples were angry at this plan to get James and John the highest status, but you do not see any anger in Jesus. He understood this mothers ambition, and knew it was the force behind two of the best men he ever knew.
They were far from perfect, and had some rough edges to be smoothed off. It could even be that they were using their mother here, for many feel she was either the sister of Mary or of Joseph, and this family tie could have looked like the edge they needed in the competition among the disciples. Children are notorious for trying to use either mom or dad to get their will accomplished. In a book of letters from camp with the mother's response, one mother wrote this:
"Dear Peter, daddy got your letter and the answer is no! Daddy can't get your counselor drafted into the army." Mothers can sometimes be so uncooperative. One wrote, "Dear Richard, don't sell your tennis racket, aqualung, catchers mitt, or football uniform this summer. Father says this is your third and final warning." It is no wonder some kids can't get ahead with road blocks like that. Another wrote, "Dear Raymond, I refuse to send you $2.00 to loan to your counselor. Are you trying to bribe your counselor?" When your own mother doesn't trust you its hard to succeed as a wheeler-dealer.
It is possible Salome's two boys put her up to this, and convinced her it was the right thing to do, but all the evidence seems to point to the fact that she was just a gung ho godly mother who aimed for the stars, and sincerely felt her boys deserved the best. It certainly didn't do them any harm to have a mother who had such a high opinion of their abilities. Her request for her two sons to be at the top is an insight into the heritage these boys had all their lives in their godly mother.
Thomas Jefferson said, "There never was a great man but that there was a good mother behind him." This goes for great women as well. Jenny Lind, who became one of the world's greatest singers in the mid 1800's, was known as the Swedish Nightingale said, "My dear little mother gave me her Swedish Bible, praying that I might never cease reading and obeying its teachings. All that I am I owe to my Christian mother and her great faith in me.
Of all the earthly things God gives, There's one above all others. It is the precious, priceless gift Of loving, Christian mothers.
One of the best things you can give your children is what Salome gave her two boys, and that is a high opinion of how useful they can be in the kingdom of God. Make sure your children know that you think they are worthy of key positions in the service of the King. The word service leads us to our third point.
Jesus used this mother's request, and the emotional moment it created, to teach his disciples and all mothers what their highest responsibility is. It is not to see that children get the best jobs, the highest pay, and the most power, but rather, that they become servants that care about other people. No mother has reason to be proud just because her child is famous, rich, and powerful. She is only worthy of praise and honor when her children are forces of loving service in a world of endless need.
In 1937 when President Roosevelt was observing his 55th birthday, his mother was told you must be the happiest of all mothers, and this 82 year old mother responded, "Every mother who has good children is the happiest mother in the world." It is not power over people, but goodness that matters, and Jesus defined greatness as goodness and a spirit of service that is willing to sacrifice for the good of others. Jesus knew that all the good things that would happen in his kingdom would happen through people who had a servants heart. His kingdom does not need powerful people who lord it over others. His kingdom needs people who love to serve and minister to the needs of others. It is the responsibility of every Christian mother to make sure her ambitions for her children are not worldly ambitions, but kingdom ambitions.
Mothers can so easily take their eyes off Christ given goals, and let the culture dictate the kinds of ambition she will seek to instill in her children. There is no problem with being the president of a bank, or a nation, or any other position of prominence and power, but the point of Jesus is that all of this is much ado about nothing without a servant heart.
This was Paul's point in I Cor. 13. You can be the most eloquent politican with the tongue of an angel; you can be the most brilliant scientist with great knowledge; you can be a financial wizard who raises a fortune to give to the poor, but if you have not love you are nothing. Without the servants heart that really cares about people in serving them, all other kinds of greatness is of no value. The only people who get into the heroes of history in heaven's library are those who are servants. It is a Christian mother's responsibility to see that her children understand this perspective on greatness.
Salome did see this, for she was herself a servant of the Lord, and her boys were trained likewise. We do not see her suggesting that her boys be given power to push the other disciples around. But you recall these men had a problem with who was the greatest among them. This was a perpetual matter of discussion, and Salome's request just aggravated this open sore the 12 were always picking at. Jesus did not rebuke her, but he rebuked the 12 often for their worldly view of greatness, and their ambition to be number one. This was just another occasion where he tried to get them to see what true greatness was all about. In doing so he made it clear to all mothers and teachers, and all who help formulate value systems, that our responsibility is to produce servants.
Show me a mother whose children are proud to serve, and I'll show you a great mother. Show me a teacher whose students are proud to serve, and I'll show you a great teacher. Show me a church where people care about people, and are willing to give of their time, talent, and treasure to serve people, and I'll show you a great church. Show me a God who would send his Son into the world, not to be lauded and applauded and bowed to, but to give his life a ransom for many, and I'll show you a great God. The bottom line is that the greatest people in the world are servants and, therefore, the greatest mothers in the world are those whose children are servants.
Robert Moffat changed the whole continent of Africa as a servant. When he left home his mother made him promise something. She said you are going out into a wicked world. Begin every day with God and close every day with God. Then she kissed him, and Moffat said it was the kiss that made him a missionary. He left home with a heart to do the will of God and that always means to be of service.
The world's greatest need has always been, and will always be, mothers who recognize their responsibility to help supply the kingdom of God with servants. Like Salome they need to be examples of servanthood, and then also teach it and instill their value system into the mind of their children. If Salome felt the least bit rebuked here, you can count on it she did not go away to sulk, but rather to pray that she would be the mother that Jesus wanted her to be. Phyllis Didriksen wrote a poem that Salome could well have prayed that very night.
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.
It does not make any difference if you are at the right or left hand of Jesus, but what does matter is, do you have a servants heart? That is the only way to be great and number one is the eyes of Christ. Salome learned a valuable lesson in this experience, and, no doubt, never again tried to get her sons a privileged position. Her only ambition was that they be servants of the Lord, and that she be a servant mother.

Disclosure: Much of what is in my posts are things I have compiled through the years and I do not know if they have copyrights. What I do know about origin or website I give credit and have tried to always post a link to the origin. I do not market anything in any way on this blog -- I merely hope it will encourage and inspire others.


covnitkepr1 said...

Thanks for the invite to read this post. It a a well written and COMPLETE tribute to mothers.
Great reading.
If your not following my blog presently I invite you to do so. I have been a follower of yours for some time now.


Thank you,
I do follow and enjoy your posts as well.

Esther said...

Thank you; very interesting.

Just a question: do you follow my blog???


I found your blog very interesting regarding sheep while blog surfing--
but I couldn't find a "FOLLOW ME" link on your site.

I hope you always remain that "JOYFUL MAIDEN" -- you seem to have a very special sweet spirit!

God Bless!

Esther said...

I'm still working on putting everything I want to on the sidebar, so thanks for reminding me that I need to put that on!

God Bless!