Mothering

Commercialism makes our world go round, but none of us mothers were ever in it for the cards.

Or the flowers. Or the delicious meals cooked for us. Or yummy cakes baked for us.

Not that we haven’t enjoyed all of the above, and been blessed by such sincere shows of gratitude.

Children – yes, even when they are a challenge – fill a mother’s heart with joy every single day. Those eager eyes; the heads thrown back, abandoned to spontaneous laughter and fun; the tired heads slumped forward onto my chest; the daily joys of discovering new surprises in this amazing world we inhabit. The tiny hand slipped into mine. The cuddles on the couch. 

And that’s just when they are little.

Now, when my children are old enough to have children of their own, my pleasures in them are different. Joy, again, as I see each developing along his/her own individual pathway. Each blossoming and bearing fruit in gifting and talents unique to him or her. Each giving back to the world in which he or she lives – making people laugh, helping them forgive, eat, survive, stimulating spiritual growth and demonstrating abandonment to God, interacting in Godly ways in office and at church, sharing generously with others. 

My inclination is to say how proud of them I am, which is true, but my pride is overshadowed by my gratitude to the faithful, loving heavenly Father who has enabled them all to be all that they were created to be. 

To God be the glory. My heart sings for joy to the God who loaned me four beautiful human beings to nurture and raise, and who made up for the ‘years the locust ate’ (eg, all my poor parenting efforts). Gratitude to the God who has widened the door of my home in order to accommodate wonderful Godly partners for them. 

I can’t send you a card today, my heavenly Father, nor a dinner nor flowers nor a cake. 

But what I can do is give you my heart and soul in everlasting gratitude. 

You’ve got it. I’m yours.