Friday night before Mother's Day we launched a new ministry at my church. We are going to call it Girlfriends.
What a silly night filled with games, nail polish, pajamas, food, fellowship, laughter, banana splits and devotion.
We played a "game" of sorts that we called "Have You Ever". I had the opportunity of MCing this portion of the evening and if you have ever seen me behind the mic I am sure you can only imagine what it was like! We had compiled a list of questions that both moms and daughters could answer.
Here's a sampling of the questions:
~Have you ever given or received a spit bath?
~Have you ever called your children by their siblings name? Or the pets?
~Have you ever been embarrassed by your mother in public?
~Have you ever been embarrassed by your daughter in public?
The list goes on... And then I got to thinking about the question we should have included: Have you ever had the opportunity to lead one of your children to the Lord?
If my mom was there she could have answered that one!
Let me share that story with you:
I was 4 years old and Mom kept telling me I needed to go lie down for my nap and in usual 4 year old fashion I was delaying that event for as long as I possibly could. I don't remember what other questions I asked my mom that day but I do remember 
asking my mom a question that would forever change my life: Mom, if kids on the playground were joking around and asked Jesus to come into their heart would He or do you need to be serious? As I remember her response, she sat down at the old green kitchen table and shared what I must do to be saved. That Jesus died on the cross for me and that I must ask Him to come into my heart and surrender my will to Him. Again in my normal 4 year old fashion I jumped up and ran to bed for my nap. I remember crawling up onto that old yellow cast iron bed and asking Jesus to come into my heart. I don't know when it was that I ended up telling my mom about my salvation or if I even got around to napping that day but today, 28 years later, I am still grateful to my mom for sharing and living the gospel in front of me. 
There is one other story of mine and my mom's that I think about when I think of Mother's Day: I was around 16 years old when I came home and found my mom sitting at the kitchen table sobbing. I didn't have the slightest idea what was wrong but she grabbed my arm and had me sit down with her. She just kept crying, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Now I am getting worried. My mind is going a million different places thinking of the possibilities of what must be wrong.
Finally she lifts a news paper that she has spread on the table to reveal a shattered plate. I quickly realize what I am looking at. It is the plate that Great Grandmother Hunt gave me..the plate that she used to eat each meal on while growing up..the plate that had hung on a plate rack in the kitchen in a place of honor ever since Great Grandmother gave it to me when I was 7 years old. I am shocked by what I see and have a great sense of loss but still cannot figure why my mom is so broken down. She tries to speak, but it is difficult because she is so choked up. Eventually she says it's her fault. Implies that it is her fault that my plate was broken because of how we had hung it. I try to encourage her that it was in fact an accident, nothing anybody could have done, it was simply the pressure of the spring plate hanger on the antique pottery that gave way. 
I guess what really stands out to me about this is that my mom had collected each and every fragment of pottery in hopes that we could get this plate repaired! This reminds me of the scripture verse Psalm 56:8b "List my tears on your scroll, are they not in your record?". My mom cared enough to collect every piece because she knew it would be precious to me. To this day I have EVERY piece of that plate, tucked away in my hope chest. I doubt I will ever do anything with it but the memory of how my mom cared for it, for me, makes it special.
Thanks Mom.
