Happy Mother's Day

What is a Mother?

I hear you ask...

Someone cheering on footie,

Maybe with a flask.

Someone working late,

Making a Book Day Mask.

Someone knowing what’s needed,

Before it’s asked.

Someone starting and occasionally finishing, 

A million tasks.

What is a Mother?

I hear you say…

Someone who attempts to keep

The monsters away.

Someone who wishes there were 

More hours in a day.

Someone who worries about you

So sits down to pray.

Someone who seeks God’s path;

Following the narrow way.

What is a Mother?

I hear you question…

Someone made in God’s image,

A beautiful creation.

Someone with burdens to carry,

Without a mention.

Someone with love to give

And peace to bring during tension.

Someone who knows what’s happening,

Without her full attention.

What is a Mother?

I hear you proclaim…

Someone who is called ‘mum’, 

More than her own name.

Someone who has seen many accidents,

But yet to make a claim.

Someone who needs grace,

Where she’s taken the blame.

Someone who lives to glorify

Jesus’ name.

What is a Mother?

I hear you request…

Someone who is simply

Doing her best.

Someone who puts others first;

That’s her quest!

Someone who is hoping for 

Just a little more rest.

Someone who still mothers

Even with an empty nest.

A mother is usually the one

Who holds your heart

Who puts it back together

When it falls apart

Not all mothers

Are even mums.

We appreciate you all

Each and every one.

Because You're Worth It

Mother's Day is a funny ol' day... Love the handmade cards and nice words, and the forced kisses from teenagers. I'm always going to appreciate new earrings, or a necklace. This year, my son bought me a fish! He told me he wanted to get me a fish, so we had 1:1 time together, popped to the garden centre and he chose a fish for me. (1:1 in itself is a lovely thing, which I should probably aim to do more of. It's nice to spend time with one of the six. You get a chance to see them for who they are, not as a brother or a sister, but just as your son or daughter. Note to self; diary in intentional 1:1 time). 

I had bought a leg of lamb, and apple strudel because I just knew that's what I wanted to eat. I set my alarm for 2am so I could put it in the slow cooker; rather pleased with myself, was I. A friend came for lunch and asked what else I needed, I simply told him wine and chocolate. I was quite sure what I wanted today! I wonder with motherhood, if you get so used to just putting other people's needs, wants and desires before your own, that you forget to have any actual needs, wants and desires of your own...

Proverbs 31 is an interesting chapter of the Bible isn't it?! (Check out my adapted version here.) Maybe we think of reading through this chapter on Mother's Day, and seeing if we measure up to her. Actually I'm not sure many women would do that, (but there is a lot of good in reading it). What us mothers might do however, or women in general, and maybe even men...is to compare ourselves with another. Am I doing a better job than her? Is she doing a better job than me? Are her kids happier than mine? Does she enjoy motherhood more than me? And that is generally an unhelpful mindset; whether we think we're the one bossing it in comparison, or whether we think we're failing in comparison. 

The verses I'm drawn to today, are the ones where she looks after herself. There's plenty about her looking after her household; her husband and her family. Then there's the verses about her looking after her community, and the poor. All wonderful things, and true of a mother; catering for all those needs. But verse 25 says;

"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come."

'Clothed' says to me, that she wears it, she puts it on. She wears strength and dignity. She puts strength and dignity on. She doesn't muster it up. She steps into it. I want to stop and dwell on what that looks like for me. What brings me strength and dignity in who I am? What strengthens me? What helps my self-esteem, my self-respect? What brings honour specifically to me, to who God made me to be? I think there are things which are universal, like standing in the truth of God's word, what He thinks about me. But there are also things which bring us strength, things which are unique just to us. 

This Mother's Day, I'd like to encourage us mums to think about our own needs, wants and desires. I don't mean to the detriment of caring for our children. In fact, the opposite. We will ultimately serve our children better, if we've looked after ourselves. Do we need to diary in some 'me time'? Do we need a hair cut? Do we need a walk in the fresh air? Do we need to start a class of some kind? Do we need to find a creative outlet? Do we need a coffee out, which doesn't go cold? Do we need some time with friends? Do we need someone to encourage us? Do we need some help with the house? Do we need an early night? Or all of the above?!

And that wonderful next bit; she laughs at the days to come. How secure she is in the future, even the unknown, or the upcoming hard bits... Because she knows where her identity comes from. She knows she is loved by her father in Heaven. She is secure in Him. He's got her. He's for her. He adores her. He cherishes her. She not only knows it, she lives in it.

A Cup of Milk

Bedtimes can just be so full on!!

For the mum, it's like the finishing line; the thing they've been working towards all day. The epic finale to the show with it's various characters; people exiting and entering the main stage, with costume changes and intervals, and a script which seems so familiar, with huge amounts of comedic ad-libbing, forgotten lines and sheer dramatic performances. 

As the little people are ushered up to their beds, the mum starts to see the curtain tassles untie for the final close. She hopefully expects to hear rapturous applause, maybe flowers thrown on the stage; an appreciation of the performance she has given today. She was after all, the stage manager, the understudy, the main character, the background chorus, the prop handler, the care-taker all in one. She gave a great performance today, her children will probably call her blessed as they thank her for her parenting, laying their heads upon their pillow....

For the child however, this is the encore. They've got a whole other scene prepared. They're ready to bring out the fire eating act, and delve into the character of Verruca Salt. They have no idea you were even part of the show. This is their moment, and they're going to give it all they've got.

These two approaches to the final curtain call, can really cause some instability to the whole performance. I personally get all jittery, winding down to 'me time'. I don't want the kids to steal my time. And they love me sooooo much, that they want to squeeze out every last minute of time with me, which is nice!! It's funny because we don't do fair in this house, but it's just so unfair when they still have pillow demands of me....a cup of milk, the Bible, a kiss, a wee, a cup of milk, a philosophical question, a funny story, a lost dog, a cup of milk, something that happened at school, a cup of milk, a missing Lego man, a few tears, some water, a reenactment of a fairy tale, a stolen pillow, a form to be signed, etc.

Tonight, just getting the first two down was an emotional roller coaster, and I was spent. I had nothing else to give. My littlest asked for the Bible, while she drank her cup of milk. I took a deep breath, or was it a sigh, and I read the next story in her Bible; a story that she probably didn't understand, but it hit home to me. The story was about a man called Elijah who met a very poor widow. She only had enough flour and oil to make one loaf of bread, and then her and her son would die. Always a nice cheery story to read a two year old before she sleeps, but I read it in a cheery Mr Tumble voice, and skipped the death bit. Elijah asked the widow to make him a loaf of bread first, and then make her own bread, and God would see to it that her flour and oil didn't run out.

I was so stirred, that at this widow's hungriest and emptiest moment, she gave to someone else first. What a wonderful picture of motherhood; giving when we've nothing left to give, when we're spent, when we're done in. God provided for that widow in such a miraculous way; providing her with enough flour and oil, to ensure she didn't go hungry. He gives to me too. I'm probably not going to make my own bread anytime soon, although with oil and flour, and maybe a cup of milk, I could attempt some pancakes. But my Heavenly Father does give me grace, strength, energy, rest, and another tomorrow, to go again. He's never spent or done in. There was a moment when Jesus gave His life for me, when He gave His all in my place, when He lovingly went out of His way for me, so I never have to go without again. 

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,

 that whoever believes in him shall not perish 

but have eternal life". John 3v16