Mothers Part II

So, you read my last post, huh?  And you felt like something was missing?  That's because something WAS missing.  And I knew it at the time of writing it.  I wanted to save it for a different post. :)  (Hey, I didn't want my sweet readers to get bored with all the talk-talk-talking and stop reading!  And what I have to say is kind of long. :)  )

There is another kind of mother-child experience I wanted to talk about.  This one is so near and dear to my heart.  It is the kind of mother experience I want to have some day.  :)



This mother waited for you, her child, too.  She held you inside of her, but not in her womb.  She held you child in another place...in her heart.  She saw a picture of you, her soon-to-be child, but it wasn't an ultrasound.  She was blessed with seeing your sparkling eyes, the colour of your hair, the turn of your nose.  She saw your mannerisms, and longed to hold you close and kiss those round little cheeks, or to stroke your delicate arms.  For months she looked at the picture of you she hung on the fridge, and the waiting seemed impossibly long.  The uncertainty of the word "finalized".


Your mother prayed for you, as you were far away and didn't know how hard she was working to bring you home.  If you were older, she wondered every second what you were doing.  Were you eating breakfast?  What did you do at school today?  Did you take a nap?  Were you learning to walk without me there to see your first steps?  Did you like to sing and dance?  The wait for you mother was on an ever changing time-limit.  She didn't know if she would wait for you nine months or two years... but she was willing to wait.   She waited with faith that God would protect you until she could finally wrap you in her arms.  On any of those hard days of waiting, she could have said it was too much, but she never did.  She sacrificed so much to push on, to fight to bring you home.

When the day arrived for you to come home, you may have  already been walking and speaking a language your mother didn't know.  But that was okay.  Your mother knew the language of compassion, of love, and, as with all mothers, SERVICE.  She began serving you before you were even aware she was waiting for you.  In hours of prayer for you, far away.  In late nights filling out paperwork, and early morning phone calls to offices about passports and paperwork and fingerprints.  She had already sacrificed her heart, sending half of it far away to be with you in that long wait that she could not be with you.

Some people might say your mother had no reason to.  You were of no monetary value to her.  You were not related to her by blood.  She she knows in her heart she had every reason to love you.  She loves you so feircely, so unconditionally and so wholly, and her love for you is eternal beyond measure or concern for those mortal things like the color of your eyes or the shape of your face.  She loves you as God loves all of us.  Not because we are His flesh and blood, but because we are HIS.

Maybe your mother waited in a room for another person to present you to her.  Your mother knew you were a gift, no matter what your life had been like before that moment.  In her mother's eyes, you were more precious than jewels, more priceless than a king's treasure, and more perfect than pure gold.  Because you were HERS.

It is possible you were carried first by another woman. Your mother loved you, too, before seeing you. She waited anxiously for updates about the things her heart longed to know about you.  If you were kicking yet.  If you were growing.  When you were due to come in to the world.  She waited and she worried and she pondered and prayed.  She longed to hold her tiny baby in her arms.  She may have wondered how many times you kicked that day, how you were growing, if you  had the hiccups in the womb. She may have spoken every possible chance with the woman carrying you in her belly.  Your mother didn't feel you kick in the womb, but she felt the yearning in her heart to somehow be closer to you.  

When the day arrived for your birth, she waited nervously at the hospital.  She worried that you would be alright.  That all would go as expected.

And when you were placed in her arms, she wondered how such a small being could bring such an overflowing of joy.   She may have cried tears of joy as she cradled you in her arms for the first time.

No matter under what circumstances a woman becomes a Mother, all mothers sacrifice for their children.  They love deeply and unconditionally these precious little children who have inhabited their hearts, and every second of every day is spent in service for their children.  We can honor our mothers by living the example they set for us.  We can love as they loved us, we can serve as they served us, and we can sacrifice for others as our mothers have sacrificed everything for us.