Today Mother’s Day is celebrated in my corner of the world. We take our moms out to eat, send them cards, and post our love for them on social media sites. I’ve noticed that most people don’t praise their mom for being a dynamic speaker, an inspirational leader, or an accomplished musician. We love our moms for much simpler things.
As we grow older, we often come to the realization that certain people we doubted were right all along. How many of us have looked back and secretly wondered,If only I would have listened to my parents, who knows how many more opportunities I could have had? Who knows how many hurtful mistakes I could have avoided?
Recently, while I was out jogging, I listened to a recorded conversation between a 9-year-old son and his father. Rain poured down on me, but my eyes were even wetter from tears. The father told his son of the immense joy he felt on the day of the boy’s birth when the doctor had handed him his son for the first time. He also shared the concern he harbored that day: “You know, [I felt] fear . . . I gotta bring up a black boy in Mississippi, which is a tough place to bring up kids . . . there are statistics that say black boys born after the year 2002 have a 1-in-3 chance of going to prison.” Then he added these sobering words: “All three of my sons were born after the year 2002.”
Adopting two boys from Russia opened Russell Moore’s eyes to the privilege of being a child of God. People would ask, “Are they really brothers?” “Have you met their real mom?” Moore simply replied, “Of course they’re brothers. They’re both in our family. And their real mom is my wife.”
One of our favorite family vacation sites is a beautiful beach community located in an adjoining state. We like to go there during the “off season” when few tourists are around. Though the ocean water is a little chilly, we enjoy swimming in an indoor pool. Also, there’s a lazy river that surrounds the pool and holds a special appeal for our kids. They’ve tried to swim against its current over the years, only to be carried in the opposite direction.
Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:14-21 has been a blessing to me, but it’s also slightly confusing. How are we supposed to grasp the full measure of God’s love for us when it’s beyond our ability to understand? An experience with my son can help answer that question.
Simon’s mother was 18 when she fell in love with a man who showered her with the affection she lacked at home. Their romantic tryst was short-lived, however, and he quickly returned to his wife and family when he discovered that she was pregnant.
I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior when I was 15 years old. When my dad found out, he was heartbroken because of his differing religious beliefs. He couldn’t sleep well for the next several nights. He felt that he had failed as a father because he couldn’t keep his family together. His daughter had deserted the family tradition and chose to follow a “Western god.”
Her voice shook as she told me about the problem she was having with her daughter. The concerned mother was worried that her teenager was mixing in with bad company, so she confiscated her daughter’s mobile phone and now chaperones her everywhere. But their relationship has now gone from bad to worse. So what should this mother do?
In 1942, more than 250,000 Jews were transported by the Nazis from Warsaw to the death camp in Treblinka, Poland. Most of these Jews were killed. A social worker named Irena Sendler, however, posed as a nurse to get into the Warsaw ghetto and rescue children. She managed to smuggle more than 2,500 to safety. In hopes of reuniting the children with their families after the war concluded, she hid the children’s names in two jars buried under an apple tree.
As any couple trying to have a child knows, every 28 days you’re looking for signs of success. For many couples, this expectation is met with disappointment for a few months until conception occurs. But for others, this monthly cycle of raised and dashed hopes can last for years. Proverbs 13:12 describes such an experience well: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick.”