We were hosting a baby shower for a friend and had been forewarned about the crazy mother-in-law who was sure to make an appearance. I had come expecting a woman with wild hair and erratic movements. And though her behavior was a bit abnormal, her story was gripping and I couldn’t pull away from her compelling words.
Her son had left her, left the home, left the faith. Her heart was broken, her home empty, and her faith shaken. Not knowing the wheres or whats but only the what ifs of her son’s existence, she was reduced to tears and worries. Unsure of where to turn, she turned to her God. Crying out, she poured out her sad complaints, her bitter accusations, and begged for mercy.
“This is my son! The one who I birthed and raised and loved for so many years. I have no news, no source of help, and no idea of what to do.”
In the noise of her laments, there was only silence. And then, His response.
“He is my son. I love him more than you ever could. I have had plans and dreams for him before you even knew him. I see him even now, he is never outside the apple of My eye.”
I wondered as I heard her then. Why her? Why this mother for this son? Could her instability have provoked his flight? Could her inability have left him ill equipped? Were all his problems rooted in the incompetency of his mother?
In time, God drew her son back, back to his mother and back to his faith. A different man had emerged, one who had found a beautiful bride and was now an expectant father.
This memory returned recently as I struggled with the enormity of my own responsibility as a mother. These are my children. Their future, their character, their success depends on me. It is up to me to prepare the soil of their hearts, to plant seeds of truth, and to water and tend. The resulting harvest must speak to my success as a mother, anything else will leave me ridiculed and feeling like a failure. I want to boast of my aptitude as a mother through the lives of my children.
Feeling the pressure and seeing the challenges increasing, I wondered, "Why me? Why this mother for these children? Surely there must have been others more competent, more educated, more experienced that You could have chosen."
His answer came to me in a still, small voice, just as it had to her. "They are mine, my son and daughters. I have had plans for them before you ever knew them. My eye is on them now even as it was when they were still in the womb. My hand is on them now, leading them and teaching them, and yes, at times even using you.
"Take a good look, mother, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that you can't get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That's why we have the saying, "If you're going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God." (1 Corinthians 1:26-31, emphasis mine)
Oh.
I see.
Phew, what a relief!
It is really You raising my children, providing for their every need and preparing their way.
And sometimes, you choose to nominate the village idiot as their mother. Knowing full well that through her foolishness and humility, she would find all necessary wisdom and strength in You.
