Mother’s Day is almost here, and our mind naturally goes back to the one who first held us in her arms and loved us all her life.
Blessed are the ones who still have a mother, and can tell them how much they love them. My mother has been gone now for 13 years, and there’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think about her. I suppose you never get over missing your mother.
I came across this writing in my files, and I want to share it.
When God created mothers
When the good Lord was creating Mothers, He was into His sixth day of overtime, when the angel appeared and said, “You are putting in a lot of time on this one.”
The Lord said, “Have you seen the specs on this order? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 movable parts ... all replaceable. Runs on cokes and leftovers. Have a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to broken glasses. And six pair of hands.”
The angel shook his head and said, “Six pair of hands — no way.”
“It’s not the hands that are causing Me problems,” said the Lord. “It’s the three pair of eyes that Mothers have to have.”
“That’s on the standard model?” asked the angel. The Lord nodded, “One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, “What are you doing in there?” When she already knows. Another here in the back of her head, what she shouldn’t know, but what she has to know. And of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, “I understand and I love you” without uttering a word.
“Lord,” said the angel, touching His sleeve gently. “Come to bed.”
“Tomorrow ... I can’t,” said the Lord. “I’m so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick ... can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger ... and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower.”
The angel circled the model very slowly.
“It’s too soft,” he sighed.
“But tough,” said the Lord, excitedly. “You cannot imagine what this Mother can do or endure.”
“Can it think?” asked the angel.
“Not only think, but it can reason and compromise,” said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran his finger across the cheek. “There’s a leak,” he pronounced. “I told you, you were trying to put too much into this model.”
“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord. “It’s a tear.”
“What’s it for?” asked the angel.
“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride,” remarked the Lord.
“You are a genius,” said the angel.
The Lord looked somber. “I didn’t put it there.”
Motherhood is one of the most noble careers a woman can have. Without a mother, a family is not complete. Without families, our world is not complete. God made a plan for families when He created Eve to be a helpmeet for Adam. In Genesis 2:18, He said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an helpmeet for him.”
Motherhood was also blessed by God. “He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children” (Psalms 113:9).
Mothers are somewhat different from other people. They see things through eyes shaded by love. Not one of us has ever had an ugly newborn baby. My first baby was born after a long, hard labor that pulled his head out like a misshapen balloon. My Aunt Lucille came into my room to prepare me for the first sight of him.
“I just wanted to tell you, before you see him and get scared, that he is not deformed,” she told me. She just wasted her breath. I thought he was the most beautiful baby that I had ever seen. In fact, I marveled that no one had ever had such a lovely baby before. He opened his pansy-purple eyes and looked at me, and my heart melted. My little baby is now a 65-year-old man.
Our fourth son, Matthew, was born after a difficult delivery. His face was so mashed in that the print of his nose was plain on his upper lip, and his tongue hung out of his mouth, big and swollen. To make things worse, he was allergic to the soap they used in the hospital, and it looked as if he had a bad case of acne. Never mind, I thought he was adorable. He grew out plump and beautiful, and he is now the pastor at our church.
It takes a mother to love little boys who come in all grubby from play, with fishing worms in their pockets and a faint wild animal smell about them. Who else could love a stringy adolescent with five stubby white whiskers on his chin, and a nervous Adam’s apple bobbing up and down? It seems too, that once we acquire motherhood, it is ingrained for life.
It takes a lot of mother love to “not” understand your teenager. What joy I would have been robbed of if my mother had understood me! There was a patch of mountain tea growing on the hillside here that was my favorite spot to be misunderstood! I would flee to it, sobbing and crying, to spend some time with my face pressed down in it, being gloriously misunderstood!
I can see now that my mother understood perfectly, but was wise enough to let me have this time alone to grow and daydream. Only the love and influence of a mother and father can train up a child in the way that he or she should go — mostly by godly example. I am so glad that Mom and Daddy didn’t just send us to church, they took us.
It was their example in the home, day after day, that truly molded our characters and influenced our lives. The only hope for our next generation is to bring up our children to walk in the ways of the Lord. Mothers (and fathers) have a duty before them, and that is to set the example that God has shown us: to mold children’s lives into responsible, caring, God-fearing men and women.