Are moms really martyrs? Sometimes we might feel like it.
One of the things I remember about my childhood is that Mama cooked southern fried chicken frequently. She bought the hen, cut it up, soaked it in buttermilk, floured it, fried it and stacked it on a platter. We couldn’t wait to dig in. Everyone (six of us) grabbed their favorite piece and bit into that crispy, crunchy skin.
Everyone except Mama. She waited until our plates were filled, then she took what was left— always the wings or the neck. She adamantly declared that the neck was her favorite piece, and that secondly, she loved the wings.
As an adult I realized that Mama probably wasn’t telling the truth about that. I found myself doing the same thing—enjoying the leftover pieces after my husband and kids got theirs.
That’s part of the definition of mothering, I believe. Almost any woman can become pregnant and deliver a baby. That’s just the beginning of motherhood. It’s the easy part!
It concerns me that I see a decline in the philosophy that motherhood IS giving. That motherhood IS sacrifice. It makes me sad.
I want to challenge young mothers today to embrace the idea that bringing children into the world is the beginning of a life a blessings, but also of giving, of sacrificing.
I want to challenge young mothers today to be like Christ who, “for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, scorning the shame”* of His purpose in this life.
For the joy of seeing those children become the servants God wants them to become we mothers must give, must serve, must sacrifice.
I can tell you from personal experience that 50 years down the road the joy is worth it!
*Hebrews 12:22 NIV