Throughout my life, three mothers walked down the street of my life.
The first was my mother, who gave me birth and raised me. She left the earth too soon, 19 years ago.
The second is my wife, who gave birth to our two daughters and raised them.
The final is my two daughters, who now have children of their own, our grandchildren.
I know one thing for sure. Not all women are mothers, but all women…and human beings…have mothers.
Mothers give us the beat of our hearts, the drive of our spirits, and the healing of our hurts. Without them, we would feel lost.
Sadly, we dismissed motherhood as a mere biological act rather than the magnificent task of living. It requires long, sleepless nights of fever that spikes. Laundry baskets fall over in an avalanche of dirty clothes needing attention for the week. Noses require wiping, and “boo-boos” demand a kiss that rivals the strong antibiotic.
A mother is a flywheel that keeps families in sync and moving forward. Mothers pack lunches and unpack backpacks. They inspect homework and sign permission slips.
Moms need help, for there is more to do than time. While we devote the second Sunday in May to “honor” mothers with flowers that fade, mothers deserve so much more. Each day they deserve a prayer for strength and a mention of thanks.
A day doesn’t seem to be appropriate for a lifetime of care.
In Genesis 3, long after God crafted her from Adam’s rib, did we find the first woman’s name. She gets it from Adam, and his observation is perceptive.
“Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.” (Genesis 3:20, NIV)
Perhaps more comes in that appellation that meets the eye. Mothers are not the source of physical life but all the living a family does.
Thank God for the moms of this world, and may he guide them, for we need them.