January 18, 2006 2:20 PM
All Kinds of Mothers
I've been meaning to recommend Molly's blog last Sunday: When It All Fit Neatly, Part 2.
Excerpts to tease you into taking the time to go there:
Not easily, mind you, just neatly. I was coming out of all sorts of junk, and learning so much, none of which I’d define as, “easy.†More like violent uprising. I remember feeling like there was a war going on inside my head—these two battlefields fighting for supremecy. Before, it had been ugly, but there was no war. Now, it was bloody battle, the Lord vs. the Destroyer, every minute of every hour. I found great promise in 2 Samuel 3:1,“There was a long war between the house of Saul and the house of David. And David grew stronger and stronger, while the house of Saul became weaker and weaker.â€
In it I saw myself, the self-loving Saul and the God-loving David, and that passage served to give me hope.
But things were, aside from the battlefront, all pretty simple. There were straight lines between good and evil, there was a right way and a wrong way, there was a cold and a hot, and never any shades of grey. And that’s what I mean when I say that it all fit neatly. It just did. There was a right way to do a thing, and all I had to do was find it. The people who did it a different way were, to put it bluntly, wrong. I didn’t mean anything snooty about it—it’s just that they were wrong, that’s all. . . . . . .
Then I watched folks who did it all right and…it didn’t “work.†And I watched parents who did things exactly the opposite of what my books said to do and…they had wonderful children. And I watched God come in and work, despite major mistakes. I watched cold rebellious teenagers turn into God-loving young adults. I watched fifteen year olds who appeared to be strong for Christ turn into eighteen year olds running off to parties. And I watched families, good (good!) families, have one child choose the Lord just as their other child chose to walk away.
I had my period of motherhood when it was all perfect too. But God has a way of challenging our assumptions, doesn't he? And though it hurts sometimes to grow, I'm always grateful.
I hope all my readers already know about Choosing Home, which describes their mission this way:
In a society that generally considers "housewife" a derogatory remark (and sees "sahm" as a social position vastly inferior to a "career woman"), we are a group of women who see things differently. We have chosen to make our homes (spheres that include all living in them) our full-time profession, and find our calling rich and deeply satisfying. We embrace the challenges, seek to improve our talents and skills, and do not discount the incredible impact our lives have on those around us and the generations to come.
A friend of mine recently shared something important with me: that in my zeal to encourage Stay-at-Home-Moms, I may be coming across as judging moms who work for whatever reason. I'm grateful she told me this so I would have a chance to go on record as someone who was at other times in my life a student/mom and a working mom. During those periods of my life I had report cards, performance reviews, and the respect of society - all things I don't have as an SAHM. And so I like how the Choosing Home moms expressed where we're coming from - we're just trying to find a little balance for women who are struggling to find the meaning in their lives when they have no external source of affirmation - which means pointing them to God.
I do have some correspondence with working moms who pick up ideas from MommyLife - but I appreciated the nudge from my friend to make sure I don't forget the common ground all mothers share who put their children's needs before their own.
So for every mom out there, regardless of circumstances: You matter more than anything! And here's a little gift from William Ross Wallace (1819-1881) through me to you:
The Hand that Rocks the CradleBlessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Posted in Mothering | Permalink
Comments
I never knew that was a poem! I am so delighted with it. I printed it out. It's a keeper.
Posted by: Monika | January 18, 2006 3:50 PM
Aw, thanks so much Barbara!
From a faithful reader,
:o)
Molly
Posted by: molly | January 18, 2006 9:34 PM
Yes, Thank you Barbara. From another faithful reader. :) Holly
Posted by: Holly | January 19, 2006 9:32 AM
