I used to think I had it all figured out. I had my plan for when I became a mother - how I would discipline, how I would play, how I would train up our children. But then, something happened when we became pregnant with our daughter. From that first moment when the test declared a "positive," I was forced to realize that there are more forces at play than simply "my plans."
Today, I watch many friends who are mothers. Some are in seasons of rejoicing; others are in seasons of grieving. As I've pondered the many heights and depths of motherhood, I wondered...how can we persevere? Where does the mother find her strength? To whom to does a mother turn when the worst is realized? To whom does she thank when the best is happening?
What is a mother's strength?
There is a mother, bent and gray, her children grown and living.
They shower her with words of praise, for all her love and giving.
Another mother down the street is nursing her grown daughter
Whose body’s wracked by this disease; her life is stolen from her.
And on this day a mother cries as newborn life spills forth;
Her precious son blinks in the light and cries for mother’s warmth.
But in a room not far away, a different mother shutters,
Her stillborn son is born this day, no crying does he utter.
In silence now a young mom sits, her many children sleeping.
Though tired from the day’s events, in joy her heart is beating.
Across the land a mother wakes, her body drained and weary
She gives and gives but never takes, alone, raising her family.
Another mother laughs and sings, her only child eight.
And though her womb more did not bring, this one was worth the wait.
Yet still a different mother weeps, the memories still haunt her.
The years have passed but still she thinks of when death took her daughter.
So many stories to be told, such heartache and such wonder.
For no one knows what life may hold when you become a mother.
Yet nothing in this life can break a mother who is broken,
Her daily bread from God she takes, He is the One she’s chosen.
So bind the mother, Lord, who grieves, and heal the one who tarries.
And may we all find hope and peace in You, the One who carries.
No matter what we mothers face, the love of God’s secure,
And in the saving cross of Christ, we find our strength endures.
