Mama, you have been through so much nonsense thrown your way. And you have taken it with grace because you know the truth.
Someone said your house looks like a train wreck. Is that true? They said that every time they "pop in" to visit, there’s laundry needing folded and spread out all over your couch. That your kitchen counters are loaded with dirty dishes because you think you have to "gourmet cook" all the time for your family. That your kids are too interested in their studies; it’s not normal. They should be at school with other kids their age, learning social etiquette.
She also said you have too many books. It’s dangerous to have bookcases so high and so full. And that you deprive your kids of video games! That is inhumane. After all, it’s a cultural thing—kinda goes back to that socialization lack you all have. She feels your kids are not learning enough about the "real world" because they’re so sheltered. They’ll be societal anomalies once they leave the nest, unable to function like normal adult humans. And she thinks your son is weird—why does he want to be an engineer so early? What are you putting into his head? Why does your daughter spend so much time helping at the old folks’ home in town? Are you forcing her to work? There are laws against that …
That same someone is asking me, Mama, if I think you might forgive her useless chatter. She’s too ashamed to call you. But she needs some help. Her kids are distant; she doesn’t know them. They’re always gone … in their own worlds. They can’t socialize well outside of their age groups, and there are some real concerns about one of the teachers who seems obsessed with exposing students to alternative lifestyles. But it’s even worse than that. She doesn’t even want to talk about how bad it’s become. Her kids are embracing all of it and are drastically changing overnight.
Her kids know all the "culture" of their fellow classmates, but no more eye contact with mom or dad. They’re refusing to go to church with the family now, too. She’s asking … can she call you? Would you mind meeting her for coffee? She just needs a little advice from a Mama who’s doing something right. Clearly. It’s just that the proof is in the pudding, as they say. And she’s fearful she can’t reach their hearts. She is lost. Can you help, sweet friend?
I had a feeling you would smile and gently nod; you have always been a faithful friend.
Mama, you have been through so much nonsense thrown your way. And you have taken it with so much grace because you know the truth. God’s Word really does matter; it is the ultimate Truth. It’s where you have found Life. And all you’re doing is passing that along to your children—and to a hurting world. You are so gracious. I knew I could tell her you said, "Of course, I’m happy to talk to her," and that you’re waiting for her call.
His hand remains on your head, faithful Mama.
"Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the LORD."
—Psalms 34:11
Article courtesy of Gena Suarez at The Old Schoolhouse
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