A Tribute to my Mother

“..May she who gave you birth rejoice!” (Proverbs 23:25b)

As a child, I despised Mother’s Day. You see, my mother unexpectedly died when I was seven years old, so Mother’s Day for me meant that I had to relive my mother’s death every year. In fact all of my friends got to wear a red carnation on Mother’s Day, but I had to wear a white creation. Mother’s Day singled me out and I hated it.

All of us would like to take back things we have said or done to our loved ones, especially after they have departed. I’m no different.

When my mother died, I was glad. I had broken a vase in our living room just after she was admitted to the hospital for surgery and had been repeatedly told: “When your mother gets home, she’s gonna wear your little behind out.” Well, spankings were not strange to me. I was a very energetic little boy and trouble seemed to have a way of finding me. I knew that my mother would indeed punish me for my carelessness. So, when my family went to visit her on the Sunday before her surgery, I refused to go with them. “Please don’t make me go, Daddy. I didn’t mean to break that vase and I know I’m going to get a whipping when I got there.” I wish now I had gone.

I never asked my dad why he didn’t make me go to the hospital. I guess he felt a little sorry for me. The truth is I did get a lot of spankings, My mother was strict with her discipline and she enforced the rules, even when I broke them.

I did have the opportunity to speak with my mother before she died. When I didn’t go with my family to the hospital, she telephoned me later that evening, told me she loved me, and promised to see me soon. I never saw her again.

What I’ve told you about my mother up until now has been through the eyes and heart of a seven-year-old little boy who was confused and too young to comprehend what had happened. Understandably, I carried a lot of anger inside me for a long time and I still don’t understand why God would allow such a tragedy to happen to a child. But as a Christian, I also have to trust that “…in all things God works for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) After all, God tells us in Isaiah that we need to stop trying to figure him out. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:9)

Obviously, I didn’t know my mother very well. I only had seven years with her. But I wouldn’t trade my mother for anyone. You see, I’m a Christian today because of my mother. Yes, it was my mother who took me to all those tent revivals to hear Billy Graham and Oliver B. Greene preach. And it was my mother who taught me to kiss my Bible when I dropped it, a habit I still practice to this very day. It was my mother who taught me how to pray before I went to bed at night. And it was through her prayers that I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.

God did two things for me when I got saved that mean more to me than anything in the world. He let me know that my mother was in heaven and He granted me peace about my mother’s death and especially the confusion that I have about her life. You see, peace with God comes through faith, but the peace of God comes through prayer. I asked God to grant me peace about all the anger, session and questions I had about His decision to call my mother home. He answered my prayer. Oh, I still don’t understand why my mother had to die. “But he said to me, my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

By the way, my mother didn’t lie to me. She told me that she would see me when she got home. She’s home. And one day, I’ll go home too.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. I love you!

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