Well, that’s a story of one mother. But let’s look at another mother.Confirmed Shouter
Ever since President Nixon’s inaugural plea to "speak quietly enough so that our words can be heard as well as our voices" I’ve had misgivings about my big mouth. I’ve always admired parents who discipline their children in hushed whispers.
"Arthur, you are a naughty boy for turning on all the gas jets. Now I want you to drag your little sister out into the fresh air, give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and apologize. Don’t make Mama have to raise her voice."
I’m a shouter. Once on a vacation, when one of the kids turned on the car heater while going through Georgia, my mother told me they felt the vibrations as far north as Port Huron, Michigan.
No one is born a shrew. I used to watch women getting flushed and angry while they chewed out their children and I’d say to myself, "My goodness, that woman is going to have a heart attack. No one should discipline a child in anger." (I was five at the time and being flogged with a yardstick by my mother.)
Having children of my own knock a hole in that theory.
To begin with, there were only 32 hours out of every week when I wasn’t angry, and then I was sleeping.
Also, I discovered children never took a "No" seriously unless the dishes rattled when you said it. And the real clincher came when I discovered I had runners.
"Runners" are kids who, when they commit some sin, take off for the fields, trees, basements, neighbors, attics or sewers. Did you ever try to whisper to someone you couldn’t see? I took to shouting.
We once had a neighbor who was born out of her time.
I lived next to her for four years, and not once did that disgusting old dame raise her voice. Of course, you can imagine what that made me sound like. (The Shore Patrol breaking up a floating crap game.)
Anyway, one day the boys were throwing a ball against her house and she appeared like an apparition at the door, gestured to them and said softly, "Boys, would you all come here for a moment?"
I watched her gesturing, talking and smiling. When she finished, the boys disbanded. I pounced on my son. "What did that mealy-mouthed little frail thing have to say to you boys?" "She said if we broke her windows, she’d break our faces!"
From that day forward I forgave her for her quietness. What she lacked in volume, she made up in content. What class!
--from Forever Erma by Erma Bombeck, March 5, 1969
When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, "Woman, behold thy son!" Then saith he to the disciple, "Behold thy mother!"And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home. John 19:26-27Mary witnessed the crucifixion from the foot of the cross. Can you even imagine how she must’ve felt?
Jesus turned to John and said, "Take care of her," and looked at his mother and said, "Let him stand in my place as your son." John lived a very long life, and I believe he took care of Mary until she went to heaven.
Jesus was on the cross, bearing the weight of the sins of the whole world on His shoulders, yet He saw to it to make sure His mother was taken care of after He was gone! As God, Jesus was dealing with eternal matters, but as a man, He was showing all of us today how important it is to take care of and love our mothers!
You cannot be willfully wrong with your mother and be right with God.
If your mother is still alive, regardless of your and her ages, you can love her.
Here are some ways to love your mother.
1. Love her verbally. Some men have the philosophy—I don’t have to say, "I love you. You already know it. I have told you before, if I change my mind I’ll let you know!" Or, "I show love, not just say it…" and that may be true, but a woman needs to hear those words, “I Love You!”
Children and spouses need to hear it…and saying it makes you more of a man, not less!
Dear Abby,Our spouses need to hear it. Our children…our mothers also!
I enlisted shortly after Pearl Harbor. Thirty-six days later, I was on my way to the Philippines. En route, the Philippines fell to the Japanese, and we were routed to Australia. Eleven days after we landed, I met the most beautiful girl in the world.
On our first date, I told her I was going to marry her. I did, 18 months later, while on a 10-day R-and-R leave from New Guinea.
After more than 57 years of marriage and two children, my beloved "Mary" died five days before Christmas. Although we agreed that our ashes were to be scattered over the mountains, I found I could not part with hers.
While Mary was alive, she would frequently say, "You don’t know how much I love you." I’d reply, "Likewise." I never said, "I love you." Now her ashes are on my dresser, where I tell her several times a day how much I love her, but it’s too late. Although I wrote poetry to her, I could not bring myself to say the three words I knew she wanted most to hear.
As my dearest was dying and we thought she was comatose, I told her, "There aren’t enough words to tell you how much I love you." A few hours later, she whispered, "Not enough words" and died.
The reason I’m writing is to urge men to express their feelings while their loved ones are alive. I don’t know why, but many men are reluctant to express the depth of their feelings.
Some men would say, “I’m just not turned that way”…then turn around! “I’m just not comfortable”…then be uncomfortable!
2. Love her physically. When’s the last time you gave your mother a big hug without her asking for it…or a kiss on the cheek, or a neck rub, or just sat on the couch and held her hand for a change? (I bet those whose mothers are gone would like to trade places with you.)
She’s the first person whoever touched you…she wrapped you up in her womb for months, and you came out and first priority was to hold you. She cuddled you, stroked your head, rubbed your feet, held your little cheeks against her, gave you a finger to grasp…in love she did all these things, including grooming you with a licked thumb!
When you were little, she could say, “Give me sugar,” and you’d pucker up and she’d accept your wet, sloppy kiss and she even said thank you! You gave her bear hugs so tight she didn’t have to hold on to you…you’d just cling to her as she walked around! She changed your diapers, potty trained you, and held the Kleenex for you to blow your nose! She wiped food off of your face years longer than she should have had to! She constantly touched you! And she may have to hand you off to another, and her life may endured some heavy changes, but she deserves your touch and should never have to give that up completely! It would mean more to her than flowers or candy, or eating out.
Go to a nursing home and there’s not a single instance in which some of those precious old ladies won’t try to reach out and touch someone, a total stranger even! You can tell. They are starved for that simple, innocent brand of physical love.
3. Love her patiently. Mothers have an incredible job with no pay. No position in the business world compares to the physical, emotional, and spiritual commitment she has in motherhood.
Don’t ever make the mistake of asking a lady, "Do you work, or stay at home?" Many ladies today have to work on top of the full time job they already have.
She rises up at break of day
and through her tasks she races.
She cooks the meals as best she may
and scrubs the children’s faces
While schoolbooks, lunches, homework too,
all need consideration . . .
And yet the census man insists
She has -- “No Occupation.”
When breakfast dishes all are done
She bakes a pudding, maybe.
She cleans the rooms up, one by one,
With one eye watching Baby.
The mending pile she then attacks
by way of variation.
And yet the census man insists
She has — “No Occupation.”
She irons for a little while,
then presses pants for Daddy.
She welcomes with a cheery smile
returning Boy or Girl.
A hearty dinner next she cooks
(no time for relaxation),
And yet the census man insists
She has—“No Occupation.”
Love her patiently. Because she’s tender to your needs is no reason to take advantage of her, it’s reason to be patient and to love her all the more! It is unfair for you to be more kind, considerate, patient with your friends and your friend’s mothers than your own mother! If some treated their friends like they treat their mom they wouldn’t have friends. Their mom deserves better. She’s not a rug to wipe every negative thought on! She is not “The Old Lady!”
For us adults with living mothers: Love her patiently.
Dr. Dobson read on Focus on the Family radio:
4. Love her attentively. Mothers listen as you pour out your heart…she has a sympathetic ear, and always has…and even as an adult you’ve gone to her when you want someone who will really listen and understand…and she’ll always be on your side. It’s no wonder we like to talk to mom…she listens…but now she has issues, and now it’s your turn to be her “rock”…and take time to listen…it’s payback time! “But, she’s always complaining”…yes, just like you did! Talks about herself, asks same question over and over…A letter from an 80 year old woman on her birthday:
To all my children:
I suppose my upcoming birthday started my thoughts along these lines...This is a good time to tell you that what I truly want are things I can never get enough of, yet they are free. I want the intangibles.
I would like for you to come and sit with me, and for you to be relaxed. We can talk, or we can be silent. I would just like for us to be together.
I need your patience when I don’t hear what you say the first time. I know how tiresome it is to always be repeating, but sometimes I must ask you to repeat. I need your patience when I think too much about the past, with my slowness and my set ways. I want you to be tolerant with what the years have done to me physically.
Please be understanding about my personal care habits. I spill things. I lose things. I get unduly excited when I try to figure out my bank statements. I can’t remember what time to take my medication, or if I took it already. I take too many naps. Sometimes sleep helps to pass the day.
Well, there you have it: Time, Patience, and Understanding. Those are priceless gifts that I want.
Finally, in his letter, the Apostle Paul wrote, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” I know I can, too! It’s a wonderful feeling to know His eye is on the sparrow and I know He cares for me. I guess being old isn’t so bad after all!
Some of you may feel like Calvin’s mother this morning, wondering if anybody’s going to say, "Thank you, Mom, for all the good stuff you do."
Being a mother is a tough job and we recognize and honor that today. She needs a sincere thank you, and not just today, but from a genuinely thankful heart when least expected!
5. Love her generously. There’s nothing too good for her, we could never repay her, but we ought to die trying before she does!
She didn’t spend on herself unless all your needs were met…she could easily do without, and now it’s time for her to have something she wants!
A math teacher asked a question and said, “State your answer as a fraction. If there’s 10 at the table and one apple pie, how much does each one get? “One ninth.” said one student.6. Love her honorably.
“Don’t you know your fractions?” ask the teacher.
“You don’t know my mother! If there’s that many at the table and only one pie, she don’t want any!”
Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. Exodus 20:12
This is binding as long as your mother lives. If the husband is the head of the home, then the mother is the heart...don’t break her heart.
By the way, it’s the only one of the 10 commandments which includes a built-in promise of blessing!
I like reading this every Mother’s Day.
How about a hand now for the crowning jewel of God’s creation: our mothers!When God Created MothersWhen the good Lord created mothers, He was into His sixth day of overtime, when an angel appeared and said, "You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
The Lord replied, "Have you seen the specs on this order? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have 180 moveable parts ... all replaceable; run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that disappears when she stands up; a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointing love affair, and six pairs of hands.”
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pair of hands? No way!"
"It’s not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord. "It’s the three pair of eyes that mothers have to have. One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks ’What are you kids doing in there?’ when she already knows. Another in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t, but what she needs to know, and of course the ones in front that look at a child when he goofs up and say, ’I understand and I love you,’ without so much as uttering a word.
"I’m so close to creating something so close to myself. Already, I have one who heals herself when she is sick ...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger ...and get a nine year old to stand under a shower. Not only can she think, she can reason and compromise."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the mother. "There’s a leak," she pronounced, "I told you that you were trying to put too much in this model."
"That’s not a leak," said the Lord, "it’s a tear."
"What is it for?" asked the angel.
The Lord replied, "It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You’re a genius!" shouted the angel.
With a somber look on his face, the Lord said, "I didn’t put it there."
By Erma Bombeck