After an elementary teacher taught a science lesson on magnets, she gave her students a quiz to see how much they had learned. One of the questions read, “My name starts with M. I have six letters and I pick up things. What am I?” Half the class answered with the six-letter word: “Mother.”
Thank goodness God made mothers, because mothers not only pick up things, they also pick us up. Who is the first person you think about when you fall down and go boom? Chances are it is your mother.
God had a great idea when he invented mothers. I have the old-fashioned kind of mom. She still thinks that the kitchen is for something other than resale value. The breakfast I had growing up was a little like heaven: biscuits, cream gravy, bacon and sausage — a cholesterol picnic. It was wonderful. Mom cooked from scratch and made clothes from scratch.
But there were also some unpleasant times in my childhood. I guess everyone has his or her dysfunctions. It was those times when Mom made me go to Cloth World or Cloth Barn or City of Cloth. I felt so feminine. It was traumatic.
Moms are different now. They don’t have as much time to spend with their children. It starts early. They get only one night in a hospital to have a baby. Now I know what HMO stands for: Hurry Mothers Out. I guess moms have to work harder than ever.
Being a mother is tough. You know you’re a mother when you understand everything the family dog says, or when you have a recurring dream that you are the agitator of the washing machine and you’re off balance. You know you’re a mother when one of your biggest fears is that there will be carpooling in heaven, or when you think Barney is a real person.
I heard about a mother who finished a backbreaking job of stripping the kitchen floor and re-waxing it for Christmas. She heard her husband say, “Kids, your mother has worked hard on this floor. See how nice and clean it looks? I want you to be careful, because anyone who spills anything on the floor has to clean it up first, go to the spare room, close the door, and stay there by yourself for an hour.” When the mother heard this decree, she spilled coffee on the floor, cleaned it up, and ran to the room. No one saw her for an hour.
Motherhood is filled with frustration, difficulty and challenges — but eventually they move out.
Mother’s aren’t perfect. They sometimes talk a little too much. A couple of kids went to their father with a question. He said, “Go ask your mother.” The children responded, “We don’t want to know that much.”
Life isn’t as scary with a mom around. It’s like the story of the little boy who was in first grade. He strutted in front of his classmates and proclaimed, “When I grow up, I’m going to be a lion tamer. I’ll have lots of fierce lions and when I walk in the cage, they will roar.” He paused a moment and looked at his classmates’ faces and then added, “Of course, I’ll have my mother with me.”
There is just something about having your mom with you. If life is like a grueling race, then time with Mom is like a pit stop. It is a time of refreshment. Even my girls, who have babies of their own, still call home, and it’s evident they just need their mom. The race is hard and they need a pit stop. When I fly through Dallas, I like to stop at Mom’s and just spend a little time, have a great breakfast, and even take her to Cloth World.
A little boy was in the Easter play. He was fortunate to have the part of Jesus, and one of his lines was, “I am the light of the world.” He got to that line and forgot it. His mother just had to help. You know how mothers are. She moved out of the audience and stood in front so she could help him. He looked at his mother and she mouthed the words, “I am the light of the world.” He smiled at his mother, turned to the audience, and said, “My mother is the light of the world.”
Mothers may not be the light of the world, but they definitely brighten it up — probably because they reflect so much of God’s love.