tommyTALK
The Preacher’s Mom

Chiseling mucus crust from the nasal cavity of a three-year-old! Eek!  Washing smelly sheets because you wet the bed! Yuk!  Cleaning up diapers full of poo!  Nasty!  A few months ago, I watched Mike Rowe “discover” the process of transforming cow manure into flower pots.  Rowe called that a Dirty Job?!  That’s nothing compared to what Mothers do every day for no cash.  I wouldn’t do it.  Mothers “discover” poo in all kinds of ways and in all kinds of places, and it’s not poo from a bovine either! 
My mom, Jo Ann, had a really dirty job taking care of my brother Larry, my sister Vanessa, and me when we were little yard monkeys.  I figured, calculated, and number-crunched, and determined my Mom changed approximately 52,560 diapers between her three children.  That’s ridiculous!  Who in their right mind would do something like that?  It has to affect a person’s psychology.  I told you, only a Mother has the fortitude to do the dirty jobs to put us on the right path.  How would you like to be responsible for training toddlers how to control and manage their bodily functions so they don’t embarrass themselves in Kindergarten class? 
I don’t know how my mom endured the incessant whining of three little kids as a single mom, but she did.  I stand inspired and amazed.  In the middle of a world-class argument or fight over something really significant—like who gets to sit in the front seat, or who gets to wear the new pair of underwear—my mom would pronounce this blessing (or curse) on us—“I pray to God Almighty that He will bless you with two little boys who are just like you.”  I always thought, “Cool, Mom’s praying for my kids,” but I think she was calling down God’s big stick on us.  I love my mom because she did the dirty job of motherhood and I never heard her complain about it.  That’s what good moms do.   I mean I don’t know how she survived my little brother and sister—they were a real handful! Before she married my awesome step-dad Kenny, mom sacrificed time, money, sweat, and tears to make a life for three little rug rats, and I enjoy the beautiful life God’s given me today because of the dirty work my mom did for me. 
Instead of going to college, Mom chose the noble occupation of being a stay-at-home mother.  I know how to treat the hurting with compassion because of my mom.  I know how to endure difficult times because of my mom.  I know how to listen to people’s hearts because of my Mom.  I know how to cook pancakes because of my Mom.  I know how to wash and dry dishes because of my mom.  Most importantly, I know Jesus because of my Mom.  When God’s hand was on me as a little boy, I know that it was Mom’s prayers, encouragement, and influence that paved the way to Jesus.  There was a time in my life I got angry with Mom.  I had had enough.  She didn’t understand me.  She didn’t care.  She was always telling me what to do all the time, so I packed my bags and ran away—I was six-years old.  I was going to get as far away from her as possible.  I made it to the stop sign about a block away.  I’m sure she chuckled when my whole countenance changed when she asked if I wanted to get a pop at the Sonic.  What I really needed was a pop on the backside, but Mom handled me with gentleness and kindness.   Even when I ran away, I was still in Mom’s reach.  I suspect it’s the same way with our Heavenly Father.

Category : Tommy Talk