From My View for April 17
It will soon be Mother’s Day, and I wanted to do something nice for my Mother, my wife – who is a mother of three, as well as all mothers everyone.
As a father, I see first-hand what mothers do, day in and day out, as well as being a wife and doing all the many things they do for – not just their kids – but everyone close to their heart, and not so close.
Mothers are a mother all their life, and keep things together along the way.
Of course there might be an occasional bad mother, but not many. They care for their children for their whole life, and seldom give up on their children – even when they aren’t the ideal child. We sometimes don’t reach what our mothers want us to grow-up to be, but our mothers always have a good word to say, and they know what to say when things aren’t going our way.
My mother as well as my wife have been there for me in all aspects of my life, and I truly love them both so very much. Mothers most always have something nice to say, even if a child doesn’t meet their expectations.
My Mom and Lynne love us all so very much – not just me, but my brother Bobby and my sister Sheila. My sister now cares for my mother and does everything that mom would do for us and never asks for anything.
Lynne is one special mother and wife; she along with my sister and sister-in-law, Barbie Yeager, went over and beyond to care for my youngest son Jeremy, who wasn’t suppose to live a year, and not walk. They worked with him day in and day out, moving his little feet, and it paid off.
Mothers everywhere share that bond when it comes to kids and grandchildren, that is always thinking about them and will do everything they can to make sure they get what they need or want.
A mother’s love surely, there is no tie – no sentiment known to men – sweeter than a mother’s love. Nothing among the experience of men has the appeal to the nobler side of man’s nature than stories of a mother’s love.
Listening to a sermon that Greg Morris gave a few weeks past got me thinking, and I wanted to pass on some of the things he had mentioned during his preaching.
A swan plucks feather from her own breast to build a nest for her young. Eagles build their nests high in the crags of mountain peaks. When forest fires threaten, she soars away frantically, trying to get her young to follow. But, when they can’t or won’t follow – and the fire nears the nest – she returns and spread her wings over the nest and dies with her young.
A mother’s love reaches its climax in the human mother’s bosom, and they give their strength for the new life; she cares for the child through the helpless years of babyhood, follows him through the ungrateful years of youth and manhood, and sometimes through crimes, shame and disgraceful death – all the while still loving him, owning him, and desiring to shield, protect and suffer for him.
But, if it were possible to roll all the mother’s love in the world together, it would not be comparable to the infinite love of our heavenly father!
God gave his only son to die on the cross that we all might live, and the words go hand-in-hand with MOTHERS. If they could, most mothers would die for their children. I hope and pray, on this year’s Mothers Day, you share some kinds words and tell your mother that you love her, because you don’t know when her or your own life may end.
If anyone has a nice Mother’s Day story, please share it with me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Here is a poem that Erma Bombeck put in the paper years back.
When God Created Mothers
By Erma Bombeck
When the Good Lord was creating Mothers he was into his sixth day of overtime, when the angel appeared and said, “You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.”
And the Lord said, “Have you read the specs on this order?”
“She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts… all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands.”
The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands…. no way!”
“It’s not the hands that are the problem,” said the Lord. “It’s the three pairs of eyes that Mothers have to have.”
“That’s on the standard model?” asked the angel.
The Lord noted, “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 that sees what she shouldn’t 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 so much as 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. I already 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.”
“It’s too soft,” said the angel circling the model of the Mother very slowly.
“But tough!” said the Lord excitedly. “You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure.”
“Can it think?”
“Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise,” said the creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and and her finger across the cheek. “There’s a Leak,” she 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?”
“It’s for the joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride.”
“You’re a genius?” said the angel.
The Lord looked somber, “I didn’t put it there.”