Wednesday, May 7, 2003
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Wednesday, May 7, 2003 |
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Mamas are forever By JOHN HATCHER Just recently I dreamed of sustaining a major injury to my arm. I was told it would be weeks before I could use the arm again. I was devastated. In the dream, I sought out my mother because she would be able to provide the solace and balm I needed so desperately in my spirit. And, bingo, there she was in my dream to comfort and love. Mama was with me in my dream! An old adage says that God couldn't be every place all the time so he created mothers. Why not? As we near Mother's Day, I want to pay tribute to all mothers, but particularly, to my mother who already has taken residence in heaven for several years. "Mother" and food seem to go together like a horse and buggy. It was a special treat to come home from school having the house filled with the flavor of freshly baked teacakes. Teacakes were our favorite at that time since we didn't know anything about chocolate chip cookies. We probably couldn't afford the ingredients for the latter with all the butter, chocolate, and nuts required. Teacakes were simple, sweet, and delicious. When one of my mother's children got sick, there was another special treat. Mama would "fix" some gruel. Gruel consisted of a little meal cooked in milk flavored, perhaps, with small cubes of country ham. It was worth getting sick to eat mama's gruel. As good as it was, we never had it unless we were sick. But, it hit the spot. Mama knew. My mother was a strong woman. Strong in faith. Mama knew the Bible better than I will ever know it. Mama lived the Bible. Of course, better than I will ever hope to. My memory will forever be etched with Mama getting on her knees to pray before slipping into her bed for sleep. Night after night. Her faith was not spigot faith like so many today, off and on. She was consistent. After my father's death, Mama and I would often visit my sister living in Atlanta (we lived in Columbus, Georgia). We would spend Saturday night, but get up early enough to get back in time for Sunday School the next day. She was a loyal soldier in the army of the Lord and never abandoned her station. As we would be making our way to church and as we crossed the railroad tracks, Mama would instruct, "Throw out your gum." She just didn't believe in chewing gum in church. And the railroad tracks always meant: "Time to spit out your gum." To this day, every time I cross those same tracks, I think, "Time to spit out the gum." You see, Mama took her children to church. She didn't send them. In my doctoral thesis, I acknowledged with gratitude my mother "who took me to church." When driving long distances, we would have hymn singings, I remember. It's something that I was able to pass along to my daughter. Imagine passing the time by singing hymns. What wealth! Mama never made her children guess where she was. If she was not in one place, we knew the place she was. In fact, we as children never had to wonder where our mother and father were. To make ends meet, Mama babysat. In fact, she had a very honored reputation as a babysitter. When Major John Eisenhower was stationed at Fort Benning, Mama was entrusted with babysitting the Eisenhower children (grandchildren of the sitting president at that time). My Mama changed David Eisenhower's diaper. The rest of the story: years and years later and when we lived in San Clemente, Calif., my wife and I visited a Chinese restaurant. As we walked in, I spotted David and Julie Eisenhower. I just had to go up, introduce myself, and make the connection. Of course, they both were gracious even as I interrupted their meal. You see, Mama made my 15 seconds brush with fame possible. Now, although she was the perfect mother, I was in no way the perfect son. As a second grader about to leave for school, I had a heated argument with Mama. So heated, I yelled out, "I wish you were dead." That afternoon, upon arriving from school and having forgotten the morning argument, I walked in the front door and called out, "Mama." Her voiced answered from the bedroom. I went back to find her in bed. Her first words, "Well, you almost got your wish." She had fallen out of the car when Daddy made a left-hand turn. The car door apparently had not been closed completely. She survived without a trip to the emergency room. To this day, my words haunt me, "I wish you were dead." Did I really mean it? Heavens no. This day, even, I wish she were alive. But wait a minute. In the dream last week, she was alive. There to comfort and console. God is a mighty good God to give us our mamas all our lives. John Hatcher is pastor of Outreach International Center 1091 South Jeff Davis Drive Fayetteville, Georgia 30215 770-719-0303 |
