The Servant

A late Mother's Day post...Motherhood is my favorite thing to do in all the world.  However, at times it is exhausting, heartbreaking, and messy.  I am thankful the Lord can take even my failures as a mom and turn them into miracles!  

She cleaned up milk for the third time that morning. The baby had been teething all night and was crying in his crib. The breakfast dishes were in the sink, and the fire needed to be replenished. Her oldest was out chopping wood, so she could get the bread baked for the next meal. Exhaustion filled every fiber of her being. Her "to do list" was an impossibility. Of all days, Matthius, her husband had been called to the temple for a meeting. That meant she would be responsible for the outside chores, as well.

A cool breeze floated through her Bethsaida home. She sat down for a moment to enjoy it and rest her aching feet. The baby had stopped crying, and she closed her eyes in the stillness. However, the quietness lasted only a second. "Mama, come quickly. We must hurry!" The voice of Joshua, her oldest son, came through the window. He was flushed, breathless, and full of boyish excitement. "Let's go, Mama. He is here, in our town! I have heard so much about him! Oh, I can't wait until he speaks to the crowd." His energy level made her feel even more exhausted. "Joshua, slow down! Tell me, who is here? What is so special about this man?" Joshua answered, "Jesus of Nazareth! He is the prophet that father has been telling us about, the wise one that knows all things. The crowd is gathering! Hurry, Mama!"

A peaceful afternoon on the hillside sounded wonderful! Sadly, she looked around at all the things needing to be done. The chores inside the house were mounting, and the animals outside needed tending. The baby's stubborn new teeth were causing a fever. She looked at her flushed first born. Oh, how she loved him. He was born with the gift of a generous heart. She knew from the moment she saw him that Jehovah had great plans for him. Now he had an opportunity to learn from the great Rabbi. How could she refuse him?

"Son, I can not go. A mother's job is never done. I will allow you to go if you stay with the crowd. Do not wander off." Joyfully, he went running toward the door, "Thank you, Mama! Thank you!" She laughed and told him to wait just a moment, so she could fix him a lunch. After all, breakfast was several hours ago, and she knew what an appetite her hungry boy had. "Hurry, Mama! I do not want to miss one word that Jesus says!" She quickly packed him a lunch of five small loaves of leftover breakfast bread and two small fish. With a quick peck on the cheek, he was out the door.

She watched his bare feet stir up the dust as he ran to meet a group of boys. With a heavy heart she went to the well for water to wash the breakfast dishes. The sun rose in the sky as she accomplished her tasks for the day. Thankfully, the baby's teeth broke through, so he wasn't as fussy as the night before. She began to wonder when motherhood had turned to servanthood. She was so excited with the knowledge of each new baby added to their family. But, with each bundle came more responsibility. Every day was filled before the sun rose. Each night ended with tasks left undone.

As a young Jewish girl, she felt she had a great mission to fulfill. She longed to be a part of a miracle, to fulfill the will of Jehovah. There were times when she felt so close to Him. Now, when she had a moment to give Him, she just fell asleep in exhaustion. Long ago, she had talents to offer. Now her talents consisted of preparing meals, washing laundry, and collecting eggs from her hens. Her frustration seemed to mount on the days that her family went to the temple. Her husband sat with the Rabbis, leaving her to tend to the restless children. Many days, she had to take the baby outside the temple gates during the reading of the scrolls. Often, she wondered why she bothered going at all! So much for her being a part of a miracle.

She heard a commotion in the midst of the village, as she carried laundry out to dry in the late afternoon sun. Everyone was talking and several of the ladies were carrying large baskets. She ran to see what had caused the excitement. The baskets were filled with fresh baked bread and others were filled with delicious fish! Such bountiful blessings! She asked one of the elderly ladies in the village, "But, where did it all come from?"

She received answers at once from every direction.

"There were thousands of us on the hillside."

"We were mesmerized by this man called Jesus! I felt such peace while sitting at his feet!"

"We were so enthralled that we didn't realize how hungry we were!"

"There was a boy from this very village that gave his lunch to the great Rabbi."

"Jesus, blessed the boy's lunch and began to break it. The more he divided it, the more plentiful the lunch!"

"It was a miracle, one like I have never seen before!"

"Jesus fed over 5,000 of us with one generous boy's lunch!"

The busy mother began to feel her exhaustion slip from her. With breathless excitement, she asked if the lunch originally had five loaves and two fish. "Yes," a friend said, "that is the one!" Her tired feet began to run with renewed energy towards the hillside. She knew that bread had baked in her very own stone oven. As she made her way out of the village, she counted twelve baskets of leftovers! Her Joshua was a part of the miracle. His generous heart was used by Jesus! She wanted Jesus to know who she was. She was the mama of the generous boy. She made the miracle lunch! He must know!

As she ran, she repented of her earlier frustrations. The servanthood of motherhood was not a burden. What a beautiful reminder this miracle was! Everyday, mundane moments are merely opportunities to serve her children with the love of God. This love will one day shape their own hearts to serve. More importantly, they will be used in His kingdom to make a difference, to be a part of the miracle. There is no greater calling than to serve the ones the Lord gave especially to her. Deep inside her heart she knew Jehovah blessed her when she served. She knew she was her happiest when she poured her heart into her family.

The hillside was crowded. She knew who Jesus was the second she saw Him. There was a special presence about him, although he looked like the other men. In frustration, she pushed though the crowd, but could not reach him. He was getting into a boat and leaving. The people were wading into the water, trying to touch him. As loudly as she could, she called his name. The wind whipped her voice away and hid it in the midst of the people. And yet, he turned and looked straight at her. His eyes looked deeply into her soul. He smiled. She was the boy's mama that he chose to use that day. There were even greater things in store for her son, because of the things she had instilled in him. He saw her daily acts of servanthood and turned them into a miracle. Jesus knew, that like him, she was called to serve.

A Misunderstood Mother - The Witness Mother's Day Article

Happy Mother's Day!  I had a good one.  Actually, it started last week, heehee, thanks to my eager husband.  But, that is another blog for another time.  Sis. Carpenter, the ALJC Ladies President and the first lady of our church asked me to write a Mother's Day article for the magazine, The Witness.  There are other articles that you might enjoy reading that can be found here http://aljc.org/apostolic-witness-archives/.  I had some peeps that love me ask me to post it on my blog.  I am thankful that the Lord chose me to be the Mama/Mom to Avery, Riley, Landry, and Isabella.  Motherhood is the only job that I have EVER wanted! Even though it is a more than full-time job with no vacation days,  nothing can compare to it!

 

A Misunderstood Mother

It still hurts to talk about that long ago day. The anguish comes rushing back, my eyes fill, each breath causes pain. The shock on my husband’s face when he heard about the oxen was heartbreaking. Then we heard about the sheep, camels, crops, and servants. Gone. It seemed impossible. My husband was a perfect and upright man that feared the Lord. How could this be happening? However, the servant's voice grew dim, as yet another servant ran into the room. “Sir, I am sorry, but your ten children...all are gone”. The room swayed, the sound of my screaming was deafening to my own ears. Our ten children were dead? I could not take it in. Ten times I had endured the pain of childbirth, only to have it forgotten as each new baby was placed into my arms. Ten lives nurtured to love, honor and respect Jehovah. Now, only ten freshly dug graves. My very existence as a mother had vanished. Each waking thought had always been about my ten treasures. What would I cook for dinner? Were their clothes washed and tidy? Would the life lessons Job and I tried to teach sink in? Now what was I to do? My purpose for living was gone. Grief was my constant friend.

Weeping, I found comfort in the arms of my husband, but not for long. Job suddenly became very ill. I feared for his life. I begged Jehovah not to take him from me also. I felt as if Satan was seeking to destroy us. Our luxuries were gone. I was begging for bread in the city gates, and now Job was suffering beyond anything I had ever seen. Each night, his cries of agony mingled with my groans of grief. Day after day he experienced acute sicknesses. Again, I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do to ease the pain of my husband. Finally, in the midst of longing for my children and desiring relief for Job, I uttered the words that I would give anything to take back. Words spoken at the lowest point of my life, forever recorded in history and indelibly burned into my memory - “Do you still hold fast to your integrity? Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9 NIV)

I wanted to rewind the moment. What had I said? I had spoken so cruelly while trying to hold onto a thin line of remaining sanity. I saw my husbands eyes fill with more pain. He reached for me, tried to console me with his disease-ravaged hands. "You speak as one of the foolish women would speak. Shall we accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?" (Job 2:10 NIV). Those around thought that he had rebuked me, but I know my husband's love. He did not say I was foolish. He said I sounded like one of the foolish women. In other words, “Honey, you do not sound like yourself. It is the grief and suffering that is speaking for my steady, faithful wife. Let's remember God's promises. Let's remember his goodness to us even during this trial.”

However, those around misunderstood me. They criticized and looked past my grief-stricken heart and called it a heart of stone. My arms were empty of my children. I could feel Satan fighting every second of every day, and now this terrible misunderstanding. I came to realize the power of the spoken word. I had added one more wound to the many already inflicting Job. I can not say that I felt Jehovah's presence, but I do know that I did not feel his rebuke. Surely, if God was displeased with me he would have told me. He certainly did not hesitate to rebuke Job's friends. (Job 42:7-9) Even if Job forgave me, I was unable to forgive myself. Jehovah willing, Job’s wounds would heal, but the wound from my words would never be forgotten. The scar that I would take from this trial would be the scar of being forever misunderstood.

Our sufferings lasted for almost a year. I steadfastly cared for my husband, trying my best to make him comfortable. I joyfully recall the day that I saw some of the pain leave his eyes. The day he asked me to put away the potsherd pieces that he had scraped his sores with was a day of rejoicing. I slowly felt Satan's hold on us slip away, and in its place the warmth of Jehovah's presence filled my home again. Job and I were able to look back at the wonderful memories of our ten children and smile. However, the day that will forever be etched in my heart is the day that Job felt well enough to wrap me in his arms. Oh, how I had missed his touch, needed his touch. I no longer felt misunderstood, I felt redeemed.

Our family and friends began to gather. They brought gifts of silver and gold. Our flocks began to multiply. Job was able to rebuild and Jehovah's blessings were upon us. I shared in the experience of the doubling of our wealth. Even though I was the one that had wounded with words, I still partook of the blessings. One beautiful, glorious day, I felt the movement of a child in my womb. I knew then the heart of my home had begun to beat again. Jehovah blessed me nine other times afterwards. Me, the misunderstood wound-maker, was given ten of the most beautiful children in all the land. Job and I lived long and saw four generations of offspring. Our end was greater than our beginning.

As women, we love a happy ending and the story of Job is just that! Also, as women we sometimes speak with our minds instead of our hearts. Proverbs perfectly states that the tongue is mightier than the sword. Job's wife found this to be true, and so have each of us, time and time again. Our schedules get busy, our lives become unorganized, debt piles up, and sleep evades us. So what do we do? We wound with our words. Sadly, we usually speak in haste to those around us whom we love the most. As soon as the words are spoken, we are filled with regret. With the Lord's help, we understand we are not vicious or bitter people, and thankfully His forgiveness can heal misunderstandings.

Perhaps you have not been the one that has inflicted pain with your words, but you have been the wounded one. Words cut deep into our heart and our memory. They seem to resurface at the oddest times and continue to cause pain, sometimes years later. Job has taught us many lessons, but perhaps the greatest lesson of all is that Job became intimate with one who wounded him. In his tragedy he found triumph. Not on his own, but with the help of his misunderstood wife. Job's story proves to us that Satan is the author of all misery and that God’s grace is more than enough to support us through any trial. But the ending might not have been a happy one if Job had not been willing to get close to the one who had wounded him.

What new chapter could be written in your life today if you were able to become close to the one that wounded you? What burden could be lifted if you cleared out the misunderstandings of life, and began afresh and anew? No, Job’s wife never forgot that day when things fell apart in her life and when she spoke from her grief, but she also refused to let that moment define the rest of her life. As women, may we always pray King David’s prayer in Psalms 19:14, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.”

Happy Mother's Day!  This is such a special day to me! I am so thankful for the Godly mother-in-law AND Godly mother that I have been blessed with. My mom has always made every circumstance in my life special. She has been my biggest cheerleader. According to her, there isn’t anything that my brother, sisters and now grandchildren can not do. Her favorite comments about her grandkids is, “They are so talented!” I honor her today for who she is in my life. She is my measuring stick for the mother I am trying to be.

A recent sermon brought to mind a game that many girls play with a folded piece of paper.  It "foretells" if you will grow up to  live in a mansion or a shack, and who you will marry. The preacher talked of girls who made long lists of their dreams. I was SO one of those girls.  I still have spiral bound notebooks boxed away of lists that held my dreams. When people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my immediate answer was, “A wife and mother.” I attended public school. I was the only Apostolic in my high school of about 400. I was known as the girl who always wore a skirt-even in gym class. We would periodically have sessions with our counselors concerning our career goals. I would try to explain that I simply wanted to be a homemaker and assist my pastor in any necessary duties. Since I went to a public school this was highly disturbing to them. I also had on my “list” that I would marry a wealthy man with black hair, and have three girls with black curly hair and pink hair bows. Thankfully, I accomplished one of the three goals. I did find a husband with black hair. I missed out on the wealthy part and the three little girls with black curly hair. However, I have been blessed with a Godly, hard working husband and three healthy boys. Perhaps lists aren't so important after all.

A friend and I were watching my son practice in for an upcoming school production.  She commented on how intent he was on his special part.  I mentioned that he is my most emotional son.  She smiled and said, "He will make a wonderful husband."  I laughed at her comment, and responded, "I hope all of my boys make wonderful husbands." 

Later, that comment slammed into my heart, and I began to think how much drastically my methods of motherhood need to be changing.  I am moving into a new season of mothering.  Especially with Avery, and soon for Riley.  I no longer need to focus on training them to be well-mannered boys, but powerful men of God who will someday marry wives and raise families to be active in the work of the Lord.  The advesary will soon begin to try new tactics to sway the souls of the three the Lord has given to me.  My prayers must become more frequent, more fervent.  My goal - to focus on the changing seasons of babes to boys to men.

 Ann Voskamp posted a powerful quote this week. 
It takes all the years of making a boy into a man -

to teach a woman how to be a mother.

My boys are continually changing, teaching me to be a better mother.  I will never receive a diploma in this education of motherhood, because my lessons are never ending.  My prayer...lead me Lord, guide my words, my actions, so that above all else they see YOU in me, so they will desire YOU in them. 

Happy Mother's Day to all! 

May you have a wonderful day celebrating this highest calling!

...just wanted to share of few of those fleeting, precious moments

 that we wish we could push the pause button...