“What we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But if that drop was not in the ocean, I think the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.”
— Mother Teresa
It’s my mama’s birthday. Every year, I laugh at how much I’m becoming like her. Just last week, I noticed that I tap my foot and raise my hands the exact same way during worship time at church. When I have kids of my own, I’ll probably accidentally smack them in the face while swaying to the music just like my mom smacked me so many times (now I sit on the other side of the church with my friends, away from the danger zone).
The older I get and the more traits of hers I see in me, the more blessed I feel that God picked her to be my mom. When I was younger, I thought my friends all had the “cool” moms. Well, maybe they had the cool moms, but I got the best mom. My mama loves everyone, not just her own kids, with a selfless, genuine love.
She gives umbrellas to door-to-door salesmen when it’s raining.
She invites the repairmen in for lunch.
She not only thanks every soldier she sees, but usually buys them a meal.
Even checkers at the grocery store have told me what a generous person my mom is.
She puts in long hours as a special education teacher, making sure every kid on her caseload is taken care of, regardless of bureaucratic red tape.
She gives everything she’s got, and yet she’s always ready the next day to give even more.
I’m so blessed by her, and I realize that who I am is because of the work she put in. Not everyone has that kind of mother… Someone who speaks life into them and sows into their future… At a ladies group I attended, one of the girls mentioned that women have always been “culture-changers.” While the men were off battling each other, it was up to the women to raise the children, who then grew up as the next generation of that society.
If that is the case, I wish everyone had a mom like mine…
Because despite what the Left would have you believe, women are not the sum of their “lady parts.” It’s not unambitious to want to choose motherhood over a career path. And this fabricated “War on Women” is a ploy to make women think they are less than they are, merely a pawn in the political game rather than the ones who hold the power to shape the coming generations.
I’ve told you before how it was too late for King Josiah to turn back his country, but maybe it’s not too late for us. Maybe we are the Esthers, born for such a time as this.
I’m tired of knowing what I know and still feeling like my hands are tied. I don’t even feel like we’re fighting and losing… we’re just enduring an occupation of our country. I would love it if I knew some big thing that I could be doing, but so far, I haven’t figured out what that is… So I’m stuck doing little things… But even so, every time my mama sees me, she puts her hand on my head and tells me “you are going to rock this nation.” I don’t really know what she has in mind… and sometimes I still feel like I’m just a drop in the ocean… but even a drop can cause a ripple.
So let’s all cause ripples.
In Zechariah 4, it says not to despise the days of small beginnings… I think because it’s in those small beginnings when our character is being tested. It’s when our character gains “work experience” for the jobs down the road that will be more challenging, but also yield bigger results. It’s also in the beginning when we’re required to have the most faith, because we can’t see the finished product. And maybe the end is a long way off, but we will never get there if we never begin.
So, keep posting those political things that everyone rolls their eyes at. Keep educating yourself on issues and vetting candidates based upon your own standards in this coming midterm. Talk to your kids about current events and what they mean for their future. Stop listening to nay-sayers who don’t know what you know, that you’re not alone in this fight, and for Heaven’s sake, keep praying. We need all the help we can get.
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.”