My Mother’s Hands

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (I Corinthians: 4-7/NIV)

As I celebrate my mom this Mother’s Day, I realize she is the only person integral to my entire life, from earliest memory to our daily morning coffee chats on the phone.  Mom defines unconditional love, Christ-like, with a complete acceptance of me, Debbie.

Mom’s hands were always busy with some task for our family: deftly peeling potatoes, ironing clothes, folding sheets from the clothesline, canning garden food, the dreaded washing of my hair.  My favorite thing about my Mom’s hands — the cool softness on my heated face when I was sick.  I could feel her love behind the comforting caress.

Mom’s presence.  Nightmare terrors would summon Mom with superhero speed with a frightened call into the dark.  When she appeared, the night lost its fearful grip.

Screeching tires, splintering glass, a deafening silence — a stranger pulling my five-year-old body from the mangled car.  Through the front passenger glass, I could see Mom’s bloodied face as she laid semiconscious against the seat.  Terrified, I screamed, “Mommy!”  Through the fog of her injuries, she managed to moan my name, “Debbie.” — hearing her child’s plea with a mother’s heart.   Now I am a middle-aged woman.  Mom’s heart is always open, understanding, and accepting — forever my mom.

The most precious gift my mother gave to me was the introduction to Jesus Christ.  Mom accepted the Lord as her savior shortly before the car accident.  Her hands come to mind again — fixing my hair, holding my brother’s and my hand as we went to church.  Mom defines unconditional love.  On this Mother’s Day, I am thankful for the wonderful Christian lady who God has blessed me as my mother.

Calvary . . . a bloodied brow . . . a pair of hands pierced with nails, unconditional love.  Needing Christ in my life, I prayed.  From the cross of Calvary, my prayer was heard — my name, “Debbie,” was recognized in Jesus’ heart.  I came to the cross, secure in His love, forgiveness, and acceptance.

Jesus, God’s son, also had a mother, Mary.  While dying, Jesus looked upon His mother with a son’s love.  One of His final comments, from the cross, was a request for John to care for His mother.

“When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple [John] whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”
(John 19:26-27/NIV)

On this Mother’s Day, I thought about Mary and Jesus, their mother/son bond with submissive knowledge of God’s divine plan of salvation.  Mary’s sorrow would have been great in the shadow of the suffering of her son’s crucifixion — how great her joy at Christ’s resurrection.

The deep mother/child bond is used as an illustration in the following verse of God’s comfort.

“As one whom his mother comforts, So I will comfort you…”  (Isaiah 66:13/NKJV)

I’ll Be, His forever presence.  “… I will comfort you.”

Prayer:

Dear Lord, thank you for a Christian mother, for the blessing she is to my life.  I thank you for the treasures of my children and grandchildren, precious miracles.  Help me to always be a mother, grandmother, and daughter pleasing to You.  Thank you for Calvary, salvation, and your endless love. ~Amen

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~ by Debbie Richardson on May 11, 2013.

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