As we celebrate Mothers Day this weekend, I struggle to find words
powerful enough to describe what being a mother means to me. To say I'm
incredibly blessed is an understatement. The most wonderful gifts I
ever received were my children: Heather, Justin, Josh, and Heidi. The
blessings multiplied when I became a grandmother to sweet little Amayah,
Austin, and Cabella.
In honor of Mother's Day, I would like to share the following poem about
motherhood. It may seem a little old-fashioned in our modern day world,
but the underlying message is still the same--being a mother is the
most important job a woman will ever do. To all the mothers out there, Happy
Mothers Day!
There is a time to anticipate the baby's coming, a time to consult a doctor;
A time to plan a diet and exercise, a time to gather a layette.
There is a time to wonder at the ways of God, knowing this is the destiny for which I was crafted;
A time to dream of what this child may become,
A time to pray that God will teach me how to train this child which I bear.
A time to prepare myself that I might nurture his soul.
But soon there comes the time for birth--
There is a time for night feedings, and colic and formulas
There is a time for rocking and a time for walking the floor,
A time for patience and self-sacrifice.
A time to how him that his new world is a world of love and goodness and dependability.
There is time to ponder what he is--not a pet or a toy, but a person,
an individual, a soul made in God's image.
There is a time to consider my stewardship--I cannot possess him.
He is not mine. I have been chosen to care for him, to love him,
to enjoy him, to nurture him, and to answer to God.
I resolve to do my best for him,
There is a time to hold him close, and tell him the sweetest story ever told;
A time to show him God in earth and sky and flower,
To teach him to wonder and reverence.
There is a time to leave the dishes to swing him in the park;
To run a race, to draw a picture, to catch a butterfly, to throw a baseball,
to give him happy comradeship.
There is a time to point the way, to teach infant lips to pray,
To teach his heart to love God's word, to love God's day--
There is a time to watch him bravely go to school, to miss him underfoot,
And to know that other minds have his attention, but that I will be there to
answer his call when he comes home, and listen eagerly to the story of his day.
There is a time to teach him independence, responsibility, self-reliance,
To be firm but friendly, to discipline with love,
For soon, so soon, there will be a time to let him go, the apron strings untied--
There is a time to treasure every fleeting minute of childhood.
Just eighteen precious years to inspire and train him.
I will not exchange this birthright for a mess of pottage called social position,
or business, or professional reputation, or a pay check.
An hour of concern today may save years of heartache tomorrow.
The house will wait, the dishes will wait, the new room will wait--
There will be a time when there will be no more slamming of doors, no toys
on the floor, no childhood quarrels, no fingerprints on the wall paper.
Then may I look back with joy and not regret.
There will be a time to concentrate on service outside my home,
On visiting the sick, the bereaved, the discouraged, the untaught;
To give myself to the least of these.
There will be a time to look back and know that these years of
motherhood were not wasted.
I pray there will be a time to see him an upright and honest man,
loving God and serving all.
God, give me wisdom to see that today is my day with my children,
That there is no unimportant moment in their lives.
May I know that no other career is so precious,
No other work so rewarding,
May I not defer it nor neglect it,
But by Thy Spirit accept it gladly, joyously, and by Thy grace realize,
That the time is short and my time is now--
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