For the mothers who labor in pain to birth a child, no matter if it comes through a birthing room or an adoption proceeding.
For the mothers who lose sleep and lose car keys and lose themselves sometimes because of their children.
For the mothers who change diapers, change dirty clothes, change schedules, change their lives to do what’s best for the babies.
For the mothers who fix the same cereal, who read the same story every night, and who pick up the same toys at end of day.
For the mothers who tuck in sleep heads and kneel to pray with tears of joy and intercession for the children who grow taller each day.
For the mothers who attend soccer games, boy scout events, recitals, school plays, graduations, and weddings.
For the mothers who open their hearts to children by law and call them their own.
To the mothers who welcome the lonely, the misunderstood, the broken, and the sinners like them.
For the mothers who give time to their grandchildren, their second generation and second chance at love.
For the mothers who never stop praying, never stop hoping, never stop believing, who never, ever give up.
For the mothers who care for their own mothers as they age and grow feeble.
For the mothers, God’s gift to children. And the world. We love you.
Sunday grace, friends.
love the picture of you with your Mom…about the same time we were in class together (1st Grade)…Isn’t it nice to know someone so long…Love you!
This is a sweet memory, Marilyn. And yes, to remain friends for so many years is indeed a blessing. Love you, too.