Several years back, there was a truck commercial during the Super Bowl that absolutely left the room silent. We all seemed to zone in to listen as the late Paul Harvey told us why God made a farmer. It was brilliant.
Some time later I thought it would be fun to try my own hand at writing a similar piece about motherhood. I borrowed his format, copied the rhythm, and wrote down my heart within it.
And on the 6th day, God looked down on the man in His planned paradise and said, “I need a nurturer.” So God made a mother.
God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, pray for the family, the neighbors, her church, and the country, prepare breakfast, lunches, find homework, write notes and sign papers, pack binders and gym clothes, work all day in the house or at a job, be ready to handle a phone call about a tummy-ache at any moment, get groceries, make dinner, clean the kitchen, and then go to the school and stay past 10:00 at a meeting with the PTA.” So God made a mother.
“I need somebody with arms strong enough to hold a wiggly little boy back from danger and yet gentle enough to pull splinters from bare feet. Somebody to call dirty kids in for lunch, tame cantankerous pre-teens, welcome home hungry dads, and teenage boys, and hormonal girls, wait on her own lunch until the passel of neighbor kids are gone because there aren’t enough seats, or plates to go around and tell the kids to be sure and come back real soon — and mean it.” So God made a mother.
God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a teething baby. And watch it hurt with a pain she can’t fix. Then dry her eyes and say, ‘Maybe tomorrow night we’ll sleep.’ I need somebody who can shape a top hat from a cardboard box, cut out a practically perfect beard from a few pieces of felt, who can make costumes of historical figures out of thrift store finds, throw pillows, and construction paper with only 3 hours’ notice. And who, spring time, summer, fall, and winter, will finish a forty- hour week by Tuesday noon, then, pain’n from reaching high, standing long, and bending low, put in another seventy-two hours of whatever is asked of her.” So God made a mother.
God had to have somebody willing to sit long hours on the broken chair pulled up next to the computer to struggle beside the family procrastinator so they can get that paper done before it’s due in the morning, and yet stop mid-paragraph and race to help when the neighbor calls because her daughter was in a car crash and she needs a friend to go with her to the hospital. So God made a mother.
God said, “I need somebody selfless enough to clear her own schedule for auditions and tryouts of maybe-not-so-talented kids, yet determined enough to potty-train two year olds, find puzzle pieces and Legos and tend to broken hearts of a 13 year old who will fall in love again tomorrow, who will stop her vacuum for an hour to stitch the broken seam of a stuffed animal toy. It had to be somebody who’d be honest, and kind, and not cut corners. Somebody to comb, brush, feed, fold and iron and prep, and find the bow, and tie the tie and empty the dishwasher and replenish the coffee and finish a hard week’s work before a ten-mile drive to church.
“Somebody who’d hot-glue a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when her daughter says she wants to spend her life ‘doing what mom does.'” So God made a mother.
Last Sunday was Mother’s Day and I got the opportunity to share some of this piece with our church. We had to edit it down to fit our shorter time frame but we still captured the heart of it in this video. (Click on the picture to follow the link.)
