When a woman is about to give birth, she is in great pain. But after it is all over, she forgets the pain and is happy, because she has brought a child into the world. [John 16:21 (CEV)]
My Mother’s Day prayers will include thanks for the mother and mother-in-law God put in my life, the blessings of motherhood and family, the privilege of seeing my children become adults, and the immeasurable joy of being a grandmother! Because those grands wouldn’t be here were it not for the three beautiful daughters (one by birth and two through marriage) with which He blessed me, I’ll thank God for them, as well.
Years ago, when my girls were mothers of littles, I overheard them recalling the time BC (before children) when they’d been carefree princesses and enjoyed things like spa days, dining out, shopping sprees, weekend jaunts, undisturbed sleep, and free time. Motherhood, however, changed them from princesses to queens and queendom, with its soiled diapers, sleepless nights, spills, tantrums, and never-ending laundry, was hard work. The girls couldn’t remember when last they’d donned their princess tiaras or skinny jeans and realized their last manicure was done by a four-year old. Designer purses had been traded for diaper bags and five minutes alone in the bathroom was more precious than a massage. Date nights had given way to play dates, a child’s scribbles were more valuable than fine art, and the name of a reliable baby sitter was better protected than a pin number. Queendom required an entirely new skill set and they now could fix ouchies with a Disney Band-Aid and a kiss, had developed a third eye on the back of their heads, and could sing “The Wheels on the Bus” endlessly without going crazy. The young women weren’t complaining; they knew how blessed they were by God’s gift of children. Nevertheless, the enormity of their responsibilities weighed heavy on their shoulders.
When motherhood turned my daughters from princesses into queens, their hearts expanded and they put aside their desires for the needs of their children. They learned about patience, compassion, and love. They carried the burden of living by example (which involved far more than eating their veggies and always saying “please” and “thank you”). They knew that little eyes were watching as they offered courtesy for rudeness, forgiveness for wrongs, and love to even the most unlovable. Queendom required them to be calm when they were anxious, strong when they felt weak, and brave when their knees were shaking. Princesses can cry and get flustered but queens wipe tears and offer reassurance. Like any good monarch, my girls learned about sacrifice and what it means to live for others. They learned that being a queen has nothing to do with crowns, thrones, robes, power, or wealth; it’s all about love.
In the years since that conversation, my girls have come up with last-minute science projects and become proficient in constructing anything from the White House to the Great Sphinx with popsicle sticks and Elmer’s glue. They’ve weathered adolescent rebellion, emergency room visits, prom drama, teen angst, home-schooling, and the college application process. Along the line, they developed an uncanny ability to detect a child’s malarky, wiped more tears than can be counted, and logged more hours behind the wheel than a cross-country trucker. As some of the grands start flying off, my girls are discovering that a mama’s love and responsibility doesn’t end when her babies leave the nest! Motherhood is a tough job and one that never really ends. They also know that motherhood is a beautiful gift from God.
I recalled my girls’ conversation this morning because, while walking in the park, I encountered several young mothers and mothers-to-be—a new set of young women who are trading in their princess tiaras for a queen’s crown made of construction paper, tape, stickers, glitter, and glue. Let’s not forget to pray for the next generation of queens. Don’t limit your prayers to the mothers you know and love; pray for them all—including the frazzled mom whose child is having a melt down at Target, the one with the noisy kids at church, and even the one with the crying baby sitting behind you on the plane.
In today’s increasingly divisive, violent, self-absorbed, and self-indulgent world—a world that’s beginning to resemble the godless future of Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, and Nineteen Eighty-Four—today’s mothers desperately need our prayers (as well as our patience, grace, and kindness). When the Apostle Paul said to pray for everyone, he specifically mentioned praying for kings. Let’s remember to pray for the queens, as well!
There is more power in a mother’s hand than in a king’s scepter. [Billy Sunday]
For a single-cell microorganism member of the fungus family, yeast is mighty powerful. When added to water and flour, it starts to grow and multiply as it ferments the sugars in the flour, releases carbon dioxide, and causes the dough to rise. Moreover, once added to something, yeast can’t be removed. When a small amount of old fermented dough called a starter or seor is kneaded into flour and water, it permeates the dough and makes it rise. Some of the newly leavened dough can be saved to become the starter for the next batch of bread and so on.
Immediately after the Parable of the Mustard Seed, Jesus compared the Kingdom of Heaven to the yeast a woman added to “three measures of flour” when making bread. While “measures” seems vague, the original word used wasn’t. It was seah (about a peck and a half of flour) and three seahs were over 167 cups (nearly 50 pounds) of flour. This was an enormous amount of flour for just “a little yeast” and, as He did in the previous parable, Jesus used hyperbole to emphasize the power of something very small. The question in this parable is whether the yeast is a metaphor for a bad or a good thing.
Following the Parable of the Sower and the Soils, Jesus told another parable about the coming of the Kingdom. In the Parable of the Weeds, after the farmer plants wheat, his enemy sows weeds in the same field. Jesus’ hearers would have known the weed likely was darnel. Called wheat’s “evil twin,” it looks and behaves much like wheat. When wheat is consumed it gives life but, when darnel is consumed, this inedible look-alike causes nausea and even death. Sowing weeds in a field was an act of sabotage and Roman law specifically prohibited doing so with darnel. When nations went to war, agricultural vandalism was a common practice. Olive trees were cut down, grape vines destroyed, and fields were salted so nothing would grow.
The Synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) all repeat Jesus’ parable of the Sower and the Soils. As the farmer sows his seeds, some lands on the packed soil along the footpath. The birds steal the seeds so nothing takes root. Some seeds land on a thin layer of dirt over underlying rock. Although the seeds quickly sprout, without deep roots, they wither and die. Other seeds land among the thistles and thorns. Although they take root, the fast-growing weeds crowd them out. Only the seeds that fall on fertile soil take firm root, grow into maturity, and bear fruit. Rather than teaching Agriculture 101, by comparing those soils to the various ways God’s message is received, Jesus was teaching about evangelism.
Devotions of the Heart 