A Mother’s Heart
In spite of Mother’s Day beginning
with sunshine and clear blue skies, it turned out to be a rather “drippy” day.
Al and I had planned on going out to lunch after church. Afterward we wanted to
put flowers at the gravesite of our daughter Shanda, who aways said that she
loved being a mother!
Later that afternoon, we were going
to visit an elderly woman from our church who now lives in a rest home. She was
never a mother, but spent a great part of her life babysitting for other
people’s children.
However, our plans changed when I woke up with
a runny nose and a cough. It seemed prudent to stay indoors and rest. Thankfully
we were able to watch the service online, a service that celebrated and honored
mothers, not only biological moms but also those with a mother’s heart for
children.
Our pastor shared a personal story
of how as a young child, he would tiptoe down the hallway at a certain time late
in the evening to eavesdrop on his mother’s prayers. He would stand outside her
bedroom door listening as she prayed aloud, waiting especially to hear his name.
He said that his life was shaped by
her faithful, powerful prayers. In addition to all that a mother desires for
her child, she prayed that her son would follow God, serve Him whole-heartedly,
and that he would be used for God’s glory. “You gave him to me, and I give him
back to you.”
The words of her prayers stayed with him
through the years. He was so inspired by them that he began to think about his
life, and how he could live up to her expectations for him. They were
influential in his decisions to follow Jesus and to accept God’s call to become
a pastor.
Unexpectedly, I began to feel acute
sadness over the death of our daughter Shanda three years ago. It was
disappointing that I didn’t even feel good enough to put flowers on her
gravesite. Even though I was her step-mom, we had a close bond, one which grew
even closer during her long battle with cancer. The tears began to flow as I
was overcome with sorrow.
In the midst of my tears, Al
comforted me through his reassuring words and love. He had to be feeling the
pain of her loss too. Shanda was his only child. And I knew there were many
others who were also experiencing the pain of losing a beloved son or daughter,
or a young person they had loved.
Later, our son-in-law sent a text
thanking me for all I “did for Shanda” and “do for the grandchildren.” That
brought more tears, this time of gratitude, for the blessings of having Shanda
in my life from the time she was ten years old, and for four wonderful
grandkids, from young adults to adolescents. It has also been a wonderful
blessing to live near them and watch them grow up!
Another touching message came from
my youngest brother, Jack, thanking me for being a “mother figure” in his life!
Jack’s loving words caused even more tears to fall. He and his twin sister were
born when I was thirteen years old. I helped mom as much as I could, until
leaving for college. She had her hands full with a ten-year-old son,
seven-year-old daughter and two babies.
Mom was another Godly woman who
demonstrated His love to us every day. I’m sure that she was the one who helped
shape my love for children. I loved my siblings, and when the twins were born
felt like they were my own babies.
Gradually the pain felt over loss
was replaced by gratitude. By nightfall I was feeling better. Al suggested that
we work on our challenging 1,000-piece puzzle before going to bed. After
spending several minutes and putting in a few more pieces, we decided to leave
it for another time.
Those years spent with my siblings,
with Shanda and all of my former students are like sections of a puzzle which
have come together piece by piece. Slowly a picture of a mother’s heart is
emerging, and within that heart the faces of all of God’s beloved children
entrusted to my care.
Thank you God for a mother’s heart!
“In this manner, therefore,
pray:
Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done
On earth as it is in heaven…”
Matthew 6: 9-10 NKJV
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