The Different Mother

I watched the mother in front of me at the grocery store.
She had three children, one boy and two girls.
There was a blur of activity before me that was wonderful to witness.
She handled them well; she differentiated her response to each.

That is a skill that mothers seem to possess.
An innate sense of what each child needs.
The ability to turn on a dime from one to another with ease.
No cookie-cuter parenting, or herd-them-like-cattle discipline.

The oldest little girl took a liking to me.
Perhaps our smiles bonded us in some way.
Without saying a word, she tried to impress me.
She found a way to sit on a little ledge in the front of the cart.

You have the best seat! I said enthusiastically.
She smiled, delighted that I noticed.
Her mom turned around to see this stranger that was talking to her little girl.
I appeared safe so she went back to emptying her cart knowing the girl was occupied.

This young pseudo-gymnast proceeded to get herself under the cart.
It was a mini-cart, so she was able to push up with her feet and open the metal flap.
She did a quick glance to see if I noticed.
I smiled at her accomplishment.

Her younger sister spotted a magazine with jack-o-lanterns on the front.
She seemed a little afraid of one of the carved faces.
That is when her brother came to the rescue.
He contorted his face in the same way and made her laugh.

The mother answered, and corrected, and talked, and taught as she emptied her cart.
The many hats of a mother.
The different mother she is to each child.
If truth be told, we mothers can honestly say we are not the same mother to each one.

Older children will lovingly accuse you of this misdemeanor.
They will remind you of the horrible ball and chain that held them fast.
They will point out the incredible leniency the youngest child is experiencing.
They remember all of the things that they were not allowed to do.

You know it’s not totally true.
Yet, you know there is a bit of truth to what they are saying.
It is not a lack of love and concern, but often a lack of time.
Juggling two, three, four, five or more children when you are one person with two hands.

A God-given task for sure that is only possible with God’s help.

For your first child, the nursery is organized.
The closet is color coordinated; the clothes hung by size and season.
You take pictures and videos and mark milestones with ease.
Your work is done during the morning nap; you rest when they rest in the afternoon.

You have time to watch the butterfly flap its wings and the leaves fall from the trees.
You can read books and cuddle without interruption.
You make bath time a delight; singing silly songs and making bubble beards.
You linger at bedtime because you can; because you want to.

Then suddenly there are two children; one for each hand.
You do everything in between other things; resting when they rest is a memory.
The older one has to learn to wait because they are sharing you now with someone else.
The diaper bag is now gym equipment with all the paraphernalia you must bring.

More kisses and more hugs to be sure.
More laundry and more exhaustion to be dealt with.
They are your children, but they are so different.
They each need to come with their own training manual; they do: God’s Word.

Each child adds a different dynamic to the family and stretches you a bit more.
Your own personality and countenance blossoms into the beautiful woman God intended.
When there are more children than hands or feet, there is always your heart.
It always has room; it always accommodates.

Each child does have a different mother.
Not better.
Just refined.
Like silver, the dross is removed.

Each child has a mother that has grown in grace.
Each child has a mother that is totally equipped for this most important job.
No guilt over missed pictures, or lack of videos.
No regret over baby books that were never finished.

A masterpiece was being created before your very eyes.
The exquisite work of art to which you added your much needed strokes.
Like the child, the mother is a work in progress.
Under construction with the promise of finished work that God will bring to completion.

The different mother knows how to adjust.
She knows how to be pliable in the hands of the Potter.
The One who is molding her and reshaping her.
The One who is smoothing out the rough edges.

It is good that she is different.
It is good that she cannot do this job alone.
That inadequacy she feels makes her press in to God all the more.
What a gift.

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph and the baby who was lying in the manger. When they had seen Him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:16-18)

Ponder the different mother that you are and rejoice.
God is doing a work in your child.
God is doing a work in you, too.

2 responses to “The Different Mother”

1. Such a good thought, Gina (Reggie!)– kids can be so different, and their needs different, too. Your children have been blessed to have you as a Mother.

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   • Thank you for your encouragement and sweet words, Sue!
     Gina

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