Happy Mother’s Day (Joy Wilding)

I have the perfect mother for me.  Even at the age of 45, there are times I just want my Mom.  Last summer, while I was suffering with morning sickness, I went down to Mom’s house to spend a few days lying on her couch. 

Mom had me late in life. After her second child, the doctor told her it would not be a good idea to have any more children.  Her health was in jeopardy.  Well, she didn’t listen to what he said and went ahead and had five more children (I wonder where I get my strong independence).  I’m sure glad she decided to keep having children because out of seven children, I’m number six.  She told us that we kept her young.  When her friends were empty nesters, she still had little ones at home.  My friends at school would sometimes ask if she was my grandmother.

I think us younger children were lucky to have a mature mother.  The older children broke her in by breaking all her rules.  By the time we came along, there were no rules to break.  Mom would say, “When I started my family, I had seven rules and no children.  Now, I have seven children and no rules.” I was raised on love.  The thought of doing anything that would disappoint my parents was punishment enough.  As a teenager I would tell the secrets of my heart to my parents instead of my friends because I knew I could trust them.

Mom told me that I was a serious little girl and was often thinking about how things worked.  She laughed at some of the funny things I came up with.

For Mother’s Day, we bought her a folding lounge chair for the patio. I wasn’t very big at the time and said to her, “Mama, we got you a new bed. Now you don’t have to sleep with Daddy anymore.  ”

One day while my mother was sick in bed, I was standing by her bedside talking to her. She had a big glass of water sitting on her nightstand, and I asked if I could have a drink.  She told me no because I would probably get sick.  I little while later I came back with my own glass of water. I offered it to her.  I said, “Mama, if you drink my water, will you get better?”

At the age of 84, Mom just had her 40^th grandchild and 20^th great-grand child.  We all love Grandma’s house.  All of Mom’s children and grandchildren know there is always something good to eat in her kitchen. 

My Mom was the heart of my childhood home.  I am so glad she didn’t need to go off to work, because I needed her. She spent her life at home taking care of children.  Even if I didn’t see her face, I could tell if she was home when I came through the door.  I distinctly remember coming home from school one day, and she wasn’t there.  The home felt empty without her.  When I had a hard day, I would act brave until I saw my mom.  When I saw her face, I would start crying and tell her all my troubles.  Mom had a way of making everything all better.

When Dad was off water-skiing with us in the boat, I used to wonder why Mom would often stay on shore.  Didn’t she want to have fun too?  She probably did, but someone needed to watch the children, fix the dinner, and keep things in order.  Mom didn’t seem to worry if her needs were met; she just did what needed to be done.  That’s the way my mom has always been.  Mom uses a walker now. All of us can get around easier than she can, but she still tries to wait on us.  You almost have to insist that you can get things for yourself because if you just sit there, Mom will get up and wait on you.

Mom loves all of her children, grandchildren, and great-grand children.  She doesn’t agree with everything we choose to do and say, and many times she’ll say so, but she never rejects us.  There is always an open door no matter what. 

I love my mother and am grateful that God gave me a mother that loves me.  Being a mother myself has helped me appreciate all of her sacrifices for me. 

I love you Mom. Have a wonderful day.

Love,

Jennifer

I was touched by this little boy tribute to his mother.  Thank you God for mothers.  

 

Happy Mother’s Day (Jeannie Willis)

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.

With Love, 

John

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!