I am not aware of anyone on this planet who does not have an earthly mother. Even Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the Creator of all things from the beginning had a mortal mother, and the name of his mother was Mary.
The name of my mother is Mom, but I guess she does have another name, Jeannie. I assure you, there is no other mother quite like her and I doubt there ever will be. She is unique and specially designed and made for me.
She carried me safely in her womb and was willing to put her own life at risk to give birth and new life to me. She held me, nursed me, and hugged me close. She taught me well with love and care. She showed the difference between good and bad and then wisely coached and watched me work things out. My mother is very dear to me and provides another reason why life is worth living.
Growing up, I always seemed to have some wonderful and exciting project to do. As mom saw my dreams begin to unfold, she became excited, jumped in to help, and we worked together. She helped me find boards to build a clubhouse, watched me build it, brought me drinks, and gave encouragement along the way. When I finished, she inspected it, approved it, and assured me it was good work. She said something like, “You are a pretty good little contractor.” I guess that stuck with me.
Digging seemed thrilling to me. She let me dig holes in the yard of all shapes and sizes. When I was about five years old, I dug a post-hole about three feet deep to play in. I got in it, scrunched down, and maneuvered myself as deep as possible to hide. It was easy to get myself into a fetal position deep in the hole, but hard to get out. I was stuck tight. I was caught in the hole that I had dug myself and couldn’t get out. I screamed for help to the only one I thought could help me then. That’s right, it was my mother who saved my life after a 20-minute ordeal that seemed like eternity.
As I grew, the holes grew in size. She let me dig big holes. One of them measured about twelve feet by twelve feet in dimension. It was approximately five feet deep at one end and sloped to about two feet in depth at the other end. It was still a work in progress when a neighbor was driving cattle past our home. A large bull got out of the herd, ran into our backyard, wasn’t watching his step, and fell into my pit. He landed upside down with four hooves kicking in the air. I thought I must have dug a grave and could just bury him; but somehow, to the relief of my mom and the owners of the bull, that bull managed to turn himself right side up and fight his way out of the hole.
I continued building, digging, making tunnels, and even a full sized underground house. About fifteen years later after I had moved out, was married, and had a family; my abandoned, unnoticed and almost forgotten underground private residence caved in and created a large hole in the back yard. Mom asked Dad to fill the hole and correct the situation. Each year thereafter for many years, it would settle a little, and more dirt was needed to level the ground. Mom mentioned that just recently, now over 30 years later, they still have to add a little more dirt. That’s one of my dreams that may not soon be forgotten. Mom is still cleaning up the after effects of my dream.
Mom supported many childhood dreams and helped them come true. The wise and exciting ideas always worked well with Mom’s backing, but I had a few wild and risky ones too. Those were the ones my mother wisely rejected, and she redirected my interests. That’s largely why mothers are here.
Mom helped instill in me the value of good hard honest work. She also found good things for me to participate in to develop my talents and stretch my comfort zone. These were not necessarily my dreams and ideas, but hers in my behalf. She set up my piano lessons with Mary Johnson who taught me well. I learned to play the piano, at least a little bit, and developed a few skills I didn’t know I had.
Usually, my mother’s simple guidance and encouragement would sufficiently persuade me to do whatever she considered important to “develop my character”, but sometimes she’d have to exercise minor coercion to get me involved and participate in something like: school plays, presentations, and such.
My mother is a wonderful woman and friend to me. She believes in God and desires to know His will and obey it. She teaches me to choose the right and lets me know when she thinks I’m wrong. I’m glad she still does that, talks with me, and tells me what she thinks. It helps keep me safe and straight and makes me a better man. During my entire life, she has occupied a unique position of influencing my life for good, giving me encouragement and confidence, and helping me develop and become who I am.
I really like spending time with my mother. We thoroughly enjoy working together and accomplishing a worthy task. It’s enjoyable and fun to be with her and just talk. I think it’s because I feel loved no matter what is said or done. She is wise and has much to share. Besides, I absolutely know she’s always right unless she’s wrong. I am grateful for my good and loving mother who cared enough to have me, raise me, and keep me. No doubt, she was perfectly made for me!
Much of what my mother has done and continues to do, reminds me of the One who sacrificed His Life that we may be born again and receive new life. If we call to Him, He will save us from the pits of despair in which we may be trapped, hold our hand, and lead us to safety. With His help, we are able to claim eternal life.
Mom, I love you and hope you have a happy Mother’s Day.
I also found this short story titled, Paid in Full. I hope you enjoy it.
A little boy came up to his mother in the kitchen one evening while she was fixing supper, and he handed her a piece of paper that he had been writing on. After his mom dried her hands on an apron, she read it, and this is what it said:
For cutting the grass: $5.00
For cleaning up my room this week: $1.00
For going to the store for you: .50
Baby-sitting my kid brother while you went shopping: .25
Taking out the garbage: $1.00
For getting a good report card: $5.00
For cleaning up and raking the yard: $2.00
Total owed: $14.75
Well, his mother looked at him standing there, and the boy could see the memories flashing through her mind. She picked up the pen, turned over the paper he'd written on, and this is what she wrote:
"For the nine months I carried you while you grew inside me: No Charge.
For all the nights that I've sat up with you, doctored and prayed for you: No Charge.
For all the trying times, and all the tears that you've caused through the years: No Charge.
For all the nights that were filled with dread, and for the worries I knew were ahead: No Charge.
For the toys, food, clothes, and even wiping your nose: No Charge.
When you add it up, Son, the cost of my love is: No Charge."
When the boy finished reading what his mother had written, there were big tears in his eyes, and he looked straight up at his mother and said, "Mom, I sure do love you."
And then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote: "PAID IN FULL".
This story is dedicated to our mothers, to whom we owe much. May God bless mothers everywhere. We wouldn’t be here without one, you know?
This YouTube shows that sometimes Mother’s Day can be a little hectic and funny too. Happy Mother's Day!