The Calling Of Motherhood
The Calling Of Motherhood
Not an easy job, cause its more than a
job. When the timeclock ends, they are
there way past the bell. God will
reward. He will give favor. For those that nurture in hope, His eye is
upon. Do not think your efforts go
unnoticed. He sees your dedication. He knows your plight.
Child rearing is just that. As pigs in the pasture, they must be
corralled by force at times. Stubborn
noses dig and thrust uprooting all that is made in order. So are children in their vile natures. Shepherd of the sheep? No, farmer in the mud.
They take.
They laugh. They break. They call for another. Mothers in mercy take punches, not throwing
it back at them. They come to challenge
your resolute. The trials they produce
show and refine your character. Failing,
crossing your conscience, you plead for forgiveness when your stern stance
gives way to temptation. Mothers, in
sensitivity, cry within to see their boot upside their blunt thrusts. That is the way Godly mothers are. So constrained by affectionate love, small
corrections weigh heavily on their souls.
Do I have to say more? Is there hope? We stand together to encourage one
another. The hill be hard. Resistance lessens as the wheels spin freer. Our calling is to help oil and push. Rust grabs the spindle. Working it round until the grind expulses the
infirmity. Foolishness is surely bound
up in the heart of a child. We enforce
Mom’s commands reassuring little ones Another is watching.
Fear is not by nature. Holy respect is learned. We will help today? A sharp stick will bruise. We work to aid Mom’s hand. Only she understands the heart of her
children.
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