Mother’s Day
My mom, Manya. I call her, "Momya."
Someone once said, “The best years of my life were spent in the arms of another man’s wife…my mother.” Mother’s Day is the official “spoil your mom day.” We wax poetic about how great mom is, was, or could be. We buy sappy cards with interesting poetry, and take her to dinner to tell her how much we love our mom. Thanks goodness it’s only one day a year.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother. I love my daughter’s mother. I even love my wife’s mother. That doesn’t mean that I have always been kind to my mom. There were times that I was way less than kind and loving to her.
I have caused her intense pain. I made her cry. Evidently, giving birth is really difficult and painful stuff. I mean, I don’t remember going through the birth canal (Thank you, God!) but I do remember seeing what our adorable daughter did to my wife’s sweet disposition. Also, giving birth is not all that pretty. In fact, I have been told of a time when men weren’t allowed into the delivery room. After watching the birth of my daughter, I can’t say that keeping men out wasn’t such a bad idea. Nevertheless, here we are, more enlightened and in touch with our experiential knowledge of childbirth. I digress.
What amazes me about childbirth, and all the festivities that are associated with it, is that women will go through it again. I have two sisters that were born after me. I don’t imagine that it gets any easier after the first one. In “Cheaper by the Dozen,” Bonnie Hunt’s character, Kate Baker, has 12 children. She is being interviewed by Regis and Kelly. Kelly asks, “Did you have them conventionally?” To which Kate replies, “Well, uh, after the sixth one, they just kind of walked out.” I’m not sure, but I think all babies come by force and difficulty.
Not only did I cause my mother pain in childbirth, but I was no walk in the park as a child: I got sick, hurt, was grumpy, picky, mean, and stubborn. More than once I am sure my mom tried to sell me to the Gypsies. I you are a Gypsy and you are reading this, I am past my prime so the offer, I hope, is void. Raising children is hard, heart-breaking work.
So what does Mother’s Day have to do with God? I am so glad that you asked. One day, when I was feeling particularly sad about how I treated my mom (hence, why I am glad Mother’s Day is once a year), I apologized for my horrible behavior through the years. She looked at me and, with all seriousness, said, “You were a delight.” I know I wasn’t a delight, but she was serious.
Mom’s teach us a lot about God, I think. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul writes about love. “Love keeps no record of wrongs” (verse 5). A mother’s love is a forgiving love, a patient love, a hopeful love, a long-suffering love. I’ve treated God no differently than I have my mom. I have caused God pain. I have not always listened to God’s wisdom and gone my own way, which caused us both pain. But, through it all God continues to speak wonderful words of affirmation and love. I think when I see God face to face and share all of my shortcomings; I will hear God say, “David, you were a delight.”
Happy Mother’s Day!
Dave is the pastor of Lake Louise Church. You can reach him at pastor@llcn.org or 248-236-5141