Tommy runs out of the house to meet Richard, Maria and me. Even though he’s a big five-year-old, he lets me carry him into the house, set him on the dryer, and hug him. Lisa’s been sick and her doctor told her to avoid unnecessary contact with people.
I’ve missed Tommy, and he knows it.
We play and read in his bedroom till Mother’s Day supper is ready. Tommy plays the little chick in one of his favorite stories, Be Patient, Little Chick. He especially likes it when I’m the big angry rooster, ready to teach the young upstart a lesson. Then at his command I quickly become the mother hen, flapping my wings and clucking to scare the big guy away.
Later he reads me a funny alphabet book, full of rhythm and rhyme.
I read The Crippled Lamb by Max Lucado, and Tommy plays the little lamb who has to stay behind while the others go to the lush green valley. Banished to the stable, he pours out his sorrows to his bovine friend. She assures him that God has a special place for those who feel left out.
That night a kind couple comes to the stable, and the woman gives birth to a very special Baby. Tommy curls up on his bed, pretending to warm the little one till Joseph brings some rags to cover Him.
What do I have to be thankful for this Mother’s Day? For my husband, children and grandchildren, and the God Who blesses me so richly.
“Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, Who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.”
I Timothy 6:17 (New International Version)