Yet You are He who took me from the womb; You made me trust You at my mother's breasts. On You was I cast from my birth, and from my mother's womb You have been my God. Be not far from me, for trouble is near, and there is none to help. Psalms 22:9-11
Superheroes are supposed to wear a cape.
The superheroes I'm talking about today are pretty well disguised. True, they may seem to be like everyone else.
The superhero we call "mom," using only two eyes, manages to see all the things that escape the rest of us. Sitting at the kitchen table, helping her second-grader with his homework, she can see in the living room her three-year-old, trying to stuff a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into the VCR.
Like the rest of us, these mothers have two lips, but those lips, when pressed to the forehead of an ill child, can accurately record a temperature to within a tenth of a degree. They can heal any wound that doesn't call for stitches. They can, with a smile, brighten up the darkest day, and bring down heaven's wrath upon the tot who is bent on misbehaving. The mother we're talking about has only two ears, but she can hear the silence that says something is not right in her baby's bedroom. They can pick up the first whimper of a child who is coming down with a cold. Like a patriot missile, they can zone in on a bad word that was spoken a half mile away.
Mom's brain is different, too. She can hear your thoughts and knows when you're giving her lip, even when your lips aren't moving. They know when you haven't scrubbed your face, even when you wet the washrag. They know who started the argument, and who pushed whom, first. Moms know. I don't know how they know, but they know.
The only shortcoming moms seem to have is they lie a lot. They can be up all night changing the bed sheets and pajamas of two children who have the flu, but still say they "slept just fine." When there are six members in the family and only five ice cream bars, they say that, in recent months, they've developed an allergy to dairy products. Moms, liars that they are, say they don't mind their birthday being forgotten or getting a new waffle iron for a 25th anniversary.
Moms have a whole list of excuses why their children are too busy to call them on Valentine's Day and Mother's Day. "After all, my children are very busy, and they do have lives of their own." That's a hard lie for them to pull off, but moms say it with that tone that says you'd better not challenge them.
Mothers are special. No one can argue it; no one can deny it, or debate it. But as special as mothers are, I would like to spend a few moments talking to you about an exceptional subspecies of the maternal: I want to talk about the Christian mother.
Christian mothers are unique. They are exceptional -- not because of any personal quality they naturally possess, or because of any extraordinary gene they've inherited. Christian mothers are unique because they know Jesus. Knowing Jesus means that Christian mothers see the world differently; they react differently; they behave differently; they hope differently. Every aspect of their lives is changed because they know Jesus and they believe His holy Word.
Christian moms are special because they want their children to know the Savior, just as they do. And that is cause for thanksgiving.
THE PRAYER: Dear Lord, for a superhero Christian mom, I give thanks. For children who have no such mom, I pray You will intervene. In the Name of the Savior who loves me with a greater love than mom, I pray it. Amen.
In Christ I remain His servant and yours,
Pastor Ken Klaus
Speaker emeritus of The Lutheran Hour®
Lutheran Hour Ministries