Childless Mothering
Mother or not, this post is for you.
It’s just in me… I don’t know how or why. It just is.
No doubt it drove my little brother crazy. After all, one mother is all a little kid needs, right? I realize that now, but growing up, not so much. I offered my mothering services often; or should I say I forced them on the poor boy. Most of the time he tolerated me till he could make a run for it.
But then came the day his grade promoted into the same children’s church class as me and my second grade buddies. Rarely did Rodney get out of sorts. That was my job! But the minute he walked in the room, the fear in his big, blue eyes wide without a blink, said it loud and clear, “I WANT MY SISTER!”
He spotted my blonde bouffant hairdo (Easy to do since I was the only second grader with hair bigger than a extra large cotton candy swirl. What can I say? My mom was a hairdresser) and made a beeline for my beehive.
My heart skipped a beat. I rarely thought he even liked me, but as he slipped in real close to the empty seat beside me, I felt his shoulders relax. Maybe he did need another mother…not forever, just for a moment. I would gladly be that safe place in his scary new world of children’s church.
I could do that and I would.
With all this mothering inside me, is it any wonder my destiny included teaching? Students entered my room all ages, shapes and sizes, all kinds of God-given gifts and dreams; and yes, mountains of fears and hurts.
Sometimes their lives read like an open book. Sometimes their hearts resembled a guarded safety deposit box. I’d ask God for insight on how to love and guide them to become everything He meant for them to be.
Most of them belonged to a mother, but in those hours away from their homes I could contribute to her mission. I didn’t have all the answers, but I could love and inspire them as His wonderful creation.
I could do that and I would.
My mothering instincts automatically landed my eyes on the disheveled child plopped in the shopping cart in the grocery store line. The mother was clearly living in some form of survival mode.
While she barked out commands to the older children, I made eye contact with the little one coddling a slapped hand for reaching for a cracker. The toddler peered up self-consciously as if to say, “Are you going to slap me too?”
I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head staring deep into her sad eyes. I tossed her a smile hoping it would let her know she is adored and beautiful. I held my breath to see if she’d catch it and send it back. In an instant, she hurled me a wide toothy grin.
She’s got a legal mother, but maybe I could give her a motherly glimpse of mercy. Without a word, perhaps I could hint at grace and love.
I could do that and I would.
Childless mothering has an unlikely hero named Mordecai, the older cousin of Queen Esther. He had to be both father and mother to the girl. The scripture doesn’t tell us if he had a family of his own. We only know that he accepted the role of parent to his orphaned cousin.
No, he wasn’t her biological parent, but he knew that God had put their paths together. He could love her, instruct and protect her to the best of his ability.
He could do that and he did.
I want to be like Mordecai.
Originally, I so hoped to comfort, encourage and demonstrate God’s love to children of my own. I pictured birthdays, and tooth fairies; scrapped knees and bedtime baths and prayers. I imagined the homemade Mother’s Day cards accompanied by tiny arms squeezing the breath out of me, and the vase of dandelions perched on my windowsill. First dates and graduations, status as Mother of the Bride and Grandma…
But for some unknown reason that plan didn’t match God’s. So, what did God expect me to do with this ache embedded deep in my soul: an ache given by the Creator Himself, no less?
Well, it’s not an easy conclusion on which to settle, definitely meriting more than a sentence explanation. However, it is a simple answer. Love the ones God puts in my path. Use the nurturing desire God gave me to love the Esthers of the world in their moments of mother-less-ness. They’re all around us in every church, grocery store, neighborhood and coffee shop. Sometimes even in our own homes.
I can do that. And by God’s grace, I will.
xoxo
Hope and Glory to you my friend,
