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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