A precious and powerful guest post by Emily T. Wierenga
I saw them walk into the church one Sunday, all five of them, the boys in their long pants and button-up shirts and the girls in their dresses, heads ducked low. They’d just lost their mother to a brain aneurism and I swore I’d never complain about another dirty diaper.
And then the next day my eldest son dumped the potty on the floor, a full potty, and my foster boys were fighting and my youngest fell down the stairs and got a black eye.
I gathered him up and ran to the office and sat on the floor and cried, rocking my baby back and forth wondering why God had asked me to be a mom, this girl who’d been told she wouldn’t be able to have children, this girl who had never wanted children—had only ever wanted to be famous. To be known, because of some deep unloved holes in her heart.
Sometimes I escape to the back deck and listen to the silence, to the way the snow falls—softly, uninhibited—smelling the laundry through the chute and wishing for the same kind of significance I felt as a single person. Or even as a newly married person. The ability—and time—to do something profound because I didn’t have four little boys on my lap.
And then I turn and see their tiny faces pressed against the glass of the back door, their foreheads wrinkled and my baby’s lip beginning to tremble and I know without a doubt I’m famous. Despite the spit-up on my shirt, I matter in a huge way. This mothering, matters.
And not only that, but motherhood is revolutionary. It changes the world.
We live in a culture that insists mothers deserve spa-days and hot cups of coffee and time to remember that they are women—and to an extent, I agree. I grew up as a pastor’s daughter whose mother never had time to herself, who was always serving, and she was exhausted and sad. I swore I’d never become a mother because it ruins you, it wrecks you–and in many ways, it does.
But in the same way that Jesus says a seed cannot produce fruit unless it falls to the ground and dies, we as mothers cannot produce fruit in our children (or in the world) unless we too die to ourselves.
Being a perfect housewife is not the same as being a revolutionary mom. Being a revolutionary mother means taking time each day to snuggle with your children. To read them the same story over and over, to kneel down and look them in the eyes and tell them they mean the world to you. To pray with them and take flowers and meals with them to the lonely and teach them how to fly a kite.
A mother’s sacrifice is her child’s reward. They will not remember how clean were your floors. They will remember how you took time to sound out the words in their Winnie the Pooh book, or how you stretched out your arms and said, “I love you.”
And this, friends?
This changing of the world?
It makes children of us all.
* * * * * *
Mothers? Friends? Will you help me change the world in a BIG way today, for 30 children from Rwanda? It will just take a moment… please read on.
Do you remember back in January when I visited Rwanda, HERE, and met all of those kids standing across the wire fence with their moms, staring wistfully at the students in their uniforms? And how I reached across that fence and took down their names, one by one, promising that I would help them get into that school? Because I know that education is one of the only ways out of poverty.
I have gone and set up a page on my blog with 30 children who need sponsoring from that same village… those children, they could be on the other side of the fence by the end of the year. Would you consider reaching across the wire and taking their hand? You would change a life. But more than that–you would stop the cycle of poverty for yet another generation.
Here is the page: http://www.emilywierenga.com/sponsor-rwanda/
Scroll down and you’ll find dozens of beautiful faces, all with very hard stories. If you right-click on a face and click “save as” you’ll see their name and number. If you want to either sponsor or learn more about that particular child, just email me and let me know, and I’ll send you the info: wierenga (d0t) emily (at) gmail (dot) com.
Here is info about World Help’s sponsorship program; in addition to learning about Jesus Christ, these children will have access to food, clean water, clothing, and an education:
“Our current sponsorship level is $35 per month. The most convenient way to give is through credit card or bank draft, and this can be done monthly, quarterly, or even annually. The way our program operates is a little different from some other organizations. The funds from a sponsorship do not go directly to each child or family in cash. Rather, the funds are sent to each program site and then used to meet the needs of all the children in the program. This way, if a child loses his or her sponsor, that child is still taken care of. So at Star School, the funds from sponsors help fund the operation of the school as a whole and allows low-income and disadvantaged children to attend with minimal school fees, or in many cases, free-of-charge. At Star School, the children receive a top-notch education, food, school supplies, and access to the on-site clinic. For children who live on campus, it covers their room and board. You can read more about how World Help uses funds here: http://worldhelp.net/about/financials/“
Let’s change the world, friends. One child at a time.
Emily T. Wierenga is an award-winning journalist, blogger, commissioned artist and columnist, as well as the author of five books including an upcoming memoir, Atlas Girl: Finding Home in the Last Place I Thought to Look (Baker Books). She lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband and two sons. For more info, please visit www.emilywierenga.com. Find her on Twitter or Facebook.
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