“Mother– that was the bank where we deposited all our hurts and worries.” –T. DeWitt Talmage
It’s a disturbing thing for a mother to see her child in pain. I don’t mean the pain of a bump or fall… I mean a pain within the heart, something deep and agonizing.
As a mother of six, with children ranging from nineteen down to three, there are many kinds of pains I deal with each day. Each one unique to that child requiring a different type of tending.
The little ones are easier to deal with… Aaron and Evan’s little pouts from a scolding or not being treated fairly can typically be cured with a tender, “I love you… I forgive you, don’t be sad.” A big hug and some cuddles and off they go with a bounce in their step.
It’s the addolecent ones that can be trickier. Especially boys. Two of my sons are very expressive and fairly easy to figure out…. but the one… he is very deep and quiet. What he says is typically meaningful. His words are few, yet have a power that moves my soul.
My daughter… well she is both quiet and outspoken. Not an oxymoron, just a girl. Although I am a woman, I find it difficult to understand… but she is very deep. Her heart is so large, yet filled with that, “Who am I? Where am I going? What is my purpose in life?.” Young adult confusions.
Attempting to steer each one in the direction to follow the Light… His marvelous light is this mother’s sincerest heart desire. Teaching them that He cares… He hears… He is there… to show them the purity of His perfect love.
Their hurts are mine… their tears I store… forever shall they own my heart…
Until next time,