Mother

  


      Last year when nearly all the family was present for Christmas and my mother's birthday, my sister-in-law put together a trivia game for us, that tested how well we actually knew my mother. Some of the questions were things we'd never thought that much about before. Some we certainly should have gotten right, but didn't. (Though, for the record, I got one of the highest scores! ;) ) However, there was one question we all got right. The question was basically, if she were stranded on a dessert island and could have only one thing with her, what would that thing be. Every single one of us got the correct answer.
 

Any of you have any guesses before I tell?
 

Her Bible. We knew it, even those of us who got lower scores over all. It was a given.
 

My mother has the same NASB 1977 edition study Bible which, I believe, she received in her first few years of becoming a Christian and that Bible has been her constant companion ever since. If you're at our house and you come downstairs early in the morning, there she'll be at the dining room table, candles lighted, with her Bible open. In the middle of the day, when she's taking a break on the couch. There she'll be, her Bible open on her lap.
 

If more mothers were in the word as constantly as mine is, I know CBD wouldn't be selling half of its "women's resources." I've read some of these elementary texts...my mother and I laugh at some of them. Christian women think they can read a lot of little instruction manuals written by others, rather than the master plan, written by the master Craftsman, and get the same level of spiritual maturity. They can't.
 

At the risk of preaching and possibly treading on dangerous ground, I'll say this to anyone who knows my mother. 
Do you wonder why she's so spiritually mature? She reads her Bible. 
Do you wonder why life doesn't upset her the way it does you? She reads her Bible. 
Do you wonder why my mother doesn't constantly complain about things, insomnia(which she's had for the past fifteen years at least), lack of good health in general, the world going to hell in the handbasket, etc.? She reads her Bible. 
Do you wonder why she's such a good listener and always strikes you as a wise woman(Which she is)? She reads her Bible.
 
My goal is to be more like her in that regard. Corrie Ten Boom always liked to say, "If you look to the world, you'll be distressed. If you look to yourself, you'll be depressed. If you look to God, you'll be at rest." That's my mother in a nutshell. She is constantly looking to God and His word for her satisfaction and so she is at rest. It shows. Her life is a living testimony to that fact and I am extremely privileged to have a mother like that.
 

 As a tribute to my mother, I'll post a poem I wrote for her birthday. Most of you are familiar, I believe, with the trite line, "Mother, you are warmth, comfort, wisdom, and love." I know my mother is all those things but you struggle with saying that in a way that makes it not sound trite. So, for better or for worse, this is my attempt at that.

Mother you are warmth, comfort, wisdom, and love,
A heavenly gift sent from above,
But anyone can spew those words, 
With flattering tongue and careless mind,
What truth is left for me to find,
Within the oft repeated rhyme,
Worn smooth beneath the tread of time?
Yet here is one that none have heard,
Nor lips have ever spoken to,
For there is only one of you.
 
The blustering efficiencies of society
Have left me shivering in their blaze.
The niceties of "Try-to-please"
Have welcomed in a chilling haze,
But at your touch it melts away
Like snowflakes on a spring-strewn day
And in your arms the spark of life
Is kindled fresh to burn each day.
Mother, you are warmth.
 
The stones that stay
The narrow way
Are often sharp,
And many are the tears that grace
Life's pitiless and unrelenting pace,
But mother, by your side the flowing tears are dried,
Sent from above to sooth the tired and tried,
Mother, you are comfort.
 
The world is full of jinglings and tinglings
That bewilder and confuse my minglings,
And with  their foolish voices
Strive to rip apart my reason and condemn
And make me gibber fast and loose with them,
But with your words these cowards turn and flee,
Your counsel rips apart their empty prophecy,
And I am from from their twisting turmoils free,
Mother, you are wisdom.
 
Humanity is prone to hate and apathy
And hearts will shrink by default if not tended,
And all that once could love has ended
With that curse that turns us from the light.
Yet with a beckoning, open heart you stand,
With fullness in your outstretched hand,
Bringing sunshine to a a sun-stripped land
Fueled by the king of light and love Himself,
You spread your arms and hold me ever to your heart,
This is the best and noblest part,
Mother, you are love.

    Happy mother's day to one who is not only one of the best mothers but one of the best women I have ever known. I shall be fortunate indeed if I can be even half as wise as you.
       
               All my love,
                        ~ Christianna                  

Share this:

1 comments:

Bridgette said...

An honoring tribute to your dear mom, thanks for sharing!