Moms Can Do That

Of course she gave me life, yet it is difficult to imagine my mother carrying me. King David imagined himself being knit together in his mother’s womb by the wonder of God’s creative power. My mother had just turned twenty-three a month before giving birth to yours truly, having already given birth to my older brother . When I turned 23, I was looking forward to graduation and marrying Donna – I had not yet found my first ministry. I was only beginning to learn about life and responsibility at the age when mom was already raising 2 children. But it’s not how young she was that makes her special to me, it’s how she loved me and cared for me – and still does.

Mom’s get away with things most of us would never allow anyone else to think about. Mom would take a tissue out of her purse and wet it to wipe some smudge from my childish face. Not many people could do that, but mom could. She could tell her friends some embarrassing story on me while sitting around the kitchen table. Of course I would be self-conscious, but who can stop a mother from telling stories on her children? Mom’s can make you hug them when you’re in front of your teenage friends – and while they have their arms around you, they’ll place a wet kiss on your cheek and give you all sorts of motherly instructions (for which your teenaged friends are certainly grateful) like, don’t drive too fast, or stay out too late, or go to some place not pre-approved by mom.

I truly felt ashamed of those expressions of love. They seemed so juvenile, when I felt so grown-up. But now, when I see some young mother tenderly loving her unhappy and unappreciative child, I often think of how my own mother cherished me when I was the squirming, complaining, unhappy one. I knew I was loved, but I didn’t see it up close in those moments.

Maybe that’s a little like Peter saying to Jesus, You’re not going to wash my feet! To which Jesus replied, “If I don’t wash you, you have no part with me.” Mom would have said, “Get over here; I’m your mother.”

Thank you, Mom. And thank you, God, for moms.

(I realize that not everyone has a mom worthy of honor, but I must honor my own.)