What is a Mommy After All?

I searched and searched for just the right poem to read on Mother's Day,
But all seemed so impersonal and just did not express what I really wanted to say.
I'm not that great a poet; rhyme is not my thing,
And to put it to music, everyone knows I can't sing.
So I've come up with my own prose, be it so small,
To answer the fundamental question, "What is a Mommy after all?"

A Mommy from my perspective is a 1001 different things--
Or is it rather a Mommy must do each day a 1001 different things?
Underneath her blouse is hidden a big letter "S"--
Now does that stand for SuperMom, SuperCaring, or SuperTired (or maybe all the above)?

A Mommy can leap over a pile of toys with a single bound,
Wipe a runny nose faster than a speedy toddler,
And with nerves of steel go toe-to-toe with anyone who messes with her kids.

A Mommy cooks, sews, irons, washes dishes, mops floors, changes diapers, dresses the kids,
Takes them to the doctor, shops until she drops, watches Barney for the umpteenth time,
Kisses and mends boo-boos, cleans house, picks up clothes, does the laundry,
Dusts and vacuums, and then by lunch time she's ready to go at it again.
A Mommy does that and more, and yet she finds time for Daddy.

A Mommy is a lighter sleeper than a Daddy,
That's why she always gets up at 2:00 a.m. with a sick child
While Daddy is still fast asleep or pretending to be.
A Mommy is smarter than a Daddy,
That's why a Daddy always tells his child to go ask Mommy.

A Mommy doesn't get paid by the hour,
She gets paid by looking with satisfaction into the eyes of a family God has given her.
A Mommy reads to her children from the most precious Book of all
And tells her children about the most precious Person of all.

A Mommy watches her child take her first step,
And before she can turn around,
She is watching that child take her first step down a wedding aisle. . .
A Mommy knows how to cry a lot.

What would this world be like if God did not give us Mommies?
Children grow up, leave home, start their own families,
Come back to visit for awhile, and always ask for advice.
Yes, children grow up, but Mommies never really do,
Because Mommies are always Mommies.

So I close this little prose with one more bit of rhyme.
To tell you all that a Mommy is I simply don't have the time.
And that's something else special about a Mommy--
She always seems to have the time or take the time,
And how she does it, I will never know!

But to see those little ones grow up full of the love of God, well,
That's worth all the having to get up and go.

So Mommy, I salute you--you really are one of a kind.
Don't worry about falling behind on your housework,
Because your homework is walking behind!


(written in dedication to my wife on Mother's Day, 1994)

Scared Stiff?

The swine flu has come, and it must be on par with the bubonic plague to hear some people talk. I'm all for taking necessary precautions. We don't throw caution to the wind. I wash my hands frequently wherever I go somewhere, and that was before the swine flu hit, or whatever it is called by some initials, Hemi, H202, R2D2, or something along those lines. Before you know it, someone will come out with a book, or at least an article, that will identify the swine flu with one of the seven plagues in Revelation. Scaring people to death is a scary business in the U.S.A., but there is more money to be found there than in Chrysler these days.

I don't have the cold, hard data in front of me, but I will take a wild stab at the fact that the chances of one getting seriously hurt or killed in an automobile are 10,000 times greater than anyone contracting the swine flu. So hear me out! Stay out of your cars! If you feel inclined to walk everywhere then, the chances of your getting hurt or killed as a pedestrian, may be at least 5000 times greater than getting the swine flu. Stay off the streets! If you feel inclined to hunker down, stay home, and not go anywhere these days, then your chances of getting hurt or dying at home are probably at least 3000 times greater than getting the swine flu, since most accidents happen at home. In other words, you might as well end your life now. Are you scared enough yet?

All the hoopla over the swine flu has me thinking about Psalm 37, a psalm that our family is slowly (and I mean slooooowly) memorizing together now. We only have covered the first eight verses, but three times in those eight verses we are told not to fret. Once it says it only causes harm when we do. We should not fret even when evil people seem to be getting away with their wicked schemes. Being scared stiff is not exactly a God-fearing option.

Pressing, persistent panic paralyzes plentiful people. That is more than a tongue-twister; it is a mind-bender and soul-killer.

This coming Sunday is Mother's Day when many preachers feel like they ought to say something about the virtues of motherhood. I love mothers, but one of the best advices I ever got as a young preacher is never allow the calendar to dictate what you should preach.

Instead, this coming Sunday I feel it necessary to address this issue of being scared stiff as Christians. Much of the talk of the end times these days borders on scaring people to death and not giving them much comfort. The latest bad news often spells good profits for books that push the panic button. It is high time we end the talk about the end times being a monetary boondoggle that keeps people ever speculating and constantly scared over the latest big news item.

Are you securely saved, or are you scared stiff? Are you scared to death, or are you saved to eternal life? As I read Scripture, the future coming of our Lord is not a blistering hysteria, but it is a blessed hope.

Yours in Christ,
Chris