A tribute to my mom

This is a tribute to my mom. Why not comment on your mom as well!

Moms are very special people. They gave you birth. They changed your diaper when you needed it changed, they wiped your nose when it needed wiped, and they probably even spanked your bottom when it needed spanked.

They loved you when you needed loving, they put their arms around you when you needed hugging, and they consoled you when you needed consoling.

Erma Brombeck writes in an article entitled: "I Loved You Enough":

You don't love me! How many times have your kids laid that one on you? Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic motivation a mother, I'll tell them:
· I loved you enough to bug you about where you were going and what time you would get home.
· I loved you enough to let you discover your friend was a creep.
· I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your bedroom, a job that would have taken me 15 minutes.
· I loved you enough to ignore what every other mother did or said.
· I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall, hurt and fail.
· I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, not what I wanted you to be.
· Most of all, I loved you enough to say no when you hated me for it.
Some mothers don't know when their job is finished. They figure the longer the kids hang around, the better parents they are.

I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you're both breathless...they crash...you add a longer tail. You patch and comfort, adjust and teach and assure them that someday they will fly.
Finally they are airborne, but they need more string, and you keep letting it out. With each twist of the ball of twine, the kite becomes more distant. You know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that bound you together and soar free and alone. Only then do you know you did your job.

I like what Author and preacher Tony Campolo said one time. He said that when his wife, Peggy, was at home full-time with their children and someone would ask, "And what is it that you do, my dear?" she would respond, "I am socializing two Homo sapiens into the dominant values of the Judeo-Christian tradition in order that they might be instruments for the transformation of the social order into the kind of eschatological utopia that God willed from the beginning of creation."

Then Peggy would ask the other person, "And what do you do?"

Good stuff. Thank God for moms!

I'm thankful for my mom. When I was young, she worked, cleaned the house, cooked and watched over two growing boys, all the while maintaining her sense of humor and sanity.

My mother loves to laugh. She loves to see the humor in situations that can be bleak and negative, and that in itself is a positive in the world that we live in.

My mother loves to be around people. She's at her best in a crowd with friends or family sharing life's events.

My mother has worked hard all of her life - to be a helpmate to my father, and a guide and leader to her children.

My mother loves God. She has served God all of her life.

My mother loves my father. Married 50 years this May. Wow!

I love my mother and I know that she loves me.

I quote verses from Proverbs 31 that describe her:

A good woman is hard to find,
and worth far more than diamonds.
Her husband trusts her without reserve,
and never has reason to regret it.
Never spiteful, she treats him generously
all her life long.
She shops around for the best yarns and cottons,
and enjoys knitting and sewing.
She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places
and brings back exotic surprises.
She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast
for her family and organizing her day.
She looks over a field and buys it,
then, with money she's put aside, plants a garden.
First thing in the morning, she dresses for work,
rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.
She senses the worth of her work,
is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.
She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth,
diligent in homemaking.
She’s quick to assist anyone in need,
reaches out to help the poor.
She doesn't worry about her family when it snows;
their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.
She makes her own clothing,
and dresses in colorful linens and silks.
Her husband is greatly respected
when he deliberates with the city fathers.
She designs gowns and sells them,
brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.
Her clothes are well-made and elegant,
and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.
When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say,
and she always says it kindly.
She keeps an eye on everyone in her household,
and keeps them all busy and productive.
Her children respect and bless her;
her husband joins in with words of praise:
Many women have done wonderful things,
but you've outclassed them all!”
Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.
The woman to be admired and praised
is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.
Give her everything she deserves!
Festoon her life with praises!

Len Sweet in Postmodern Pilgrims recounts a letter a physician wrote to a church-related magazine:

Today I visited an eight-year-old girl dying of cancer. Her body was disfigured by her disease and its treatment. She was in almost constant pain. As I entered her room, I was overcome immediately by her suffering—so unjust, unfair, unreasonable. Even more overpowering was the presence of her grandmother lying in bed beside her with her huge body embracing this precious, inhuman suffering.

I stood in awe, for I knew I was on holy ground. The suffering of innocent children is horrifying beyond words. I will never forget the great, gentle arms and body of this grandmother. She never spoke while I was there. She was holding and participating in suffering that she could not relieve, and somehow her silent presence was relieving it. No words could express the magnitude of her love.

That sounds like my mom.

I love you mom - happy mother's day.

George