Egyptian Mother

According to every reputable source available, four in ten births in America are to unwed mothers. That boggles my mind! I don't profess to know all of  the many reasons behind this societal change. Sometimes couples need more time to develop their relationship and their bank account before tying the knot. Sometimes there was never an intention to marry, especially now that the era of “shotgun weddings” appears to be history. Then too, often these births occur among women in their 20’s and 30’s who are independent and resourceful enough to raise a child on their own.

I think many of these moms could use some help every now and then. Semester after semester I teach young women whose “baby daddies” have moved on, leaving them to provide food, clothing, shelter, medical care, and TLC for the little ones. That’s where the rest of us can step in. There are thousands of children who need love and guidance and maybe a few extra material things too. They need someone who can provide things that their mothers don’t have time or resources for.

Thinking about this sociological phenomenon reminds me of a woman in the Bible who raised one of the most influential men in all history, a man whom the Lord knew “face to face.” This man was Moses, and the woman who raised him was Pharaoh’s daughter. Jochebed was his biological mother, and she trusted God enough to hide the infant Moses by the river’s brink when he was three months old. Had she not done so, he would likely have been killed.

Remember the story? Pharaoh’s daughter and her maidens went down to the river so that she could bathe, and while there, she spied the baby. When she looked at him, he cried, and she had compassion for the little one. Although she knew he was a Hebrew child and that all Hebrew baby boys were to be killed, she made arrangements to “adopt” him as her own.

Months passed, and according to the story in the second chapter of Exodus, Jochebed nursed him and then brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter. “And the child grew, and she brought him unto Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son. And she called his name Moses: and she said, Because I drew him out of the water.” (Verse 10) Although Jochebed’s heart was probably heavy that day, she knew what had to be done to save her son’s life.

Even though she was Pharaoh’s daughter, to me it seems that she took a big chance in raising him in the palace. Would he be recognized as Hebrew and not Egyptian? Was she single? If so, would there be gossip about the child's father? If married, what sort of understanding did she and her husband reach about Moses? Would her father not notice the child and have him killed? I don’t know much about the status of women during that era, but I don’t think being a princess was quite as exalted a role as it later became. She could have lost her life too!

Because of his life in the palace, Moses had advantages that would prepare him to eventually lead his people out of Egypt. Just imagine the education he received as a member of the royal household compared to the one he would have received had he stayed with his birth family. Plus, he learned firsthand about Egyptian culture, knowledge that would surely come in handy later in his life.

While this story occurred centuries ago, it has application to today’s world. I’m not a member of a royal household, but there are things I can do for children whose mothers are stressed and whose resources are stretched to the max. I can babysit, donate money to a women’s shelter, or even buy school supplies. The mothers we help don't necessarily have to be single either. Married moms have their share of challenges, even those with financial resources. They need support too.

I’m a grandmother and too old to adopt a child, but there are younger, more energetic people who could do so. I’ve read that many people who want to adopt a child would prefer one of their same race and/or ethnicity. But Moses was a Hebrew, and his mother was an Egyptian. Look how she changed his life!

Watch Out!

I love my little grandchildren! In fact, I dote on them so much that I’ve picked up my friend Connie’s moniker of “granddarlings” when describing them. When I’m near them, I have a tendency to overindulge them, and when I’m away from them, I fret unnecessarily about whether they’re eating enough veggies and drinking enough milk.


I know that most grandmothers feel the same love and concern for their posterity as I do, and it makes me wonder why there aren’t more of them mentioned in the Bible. I could be wrong, but I think Lois is the only one. She’s Eunice’s mother and Timothy’s grandmother. She must have been quite a woman of faith to have been so influential in his life, and Paul praises her in a letter to Timothy, “When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice.” (II Timothy 1: 5)

I’m not claiming to have Lois’s spiritual stature. I'm just saying that a recent incident reminded me of just how influential I and other grandmothers can be.

My granddaughter Olivia had her first birthday last month, and she and her parents celebrated at my house. Using my iPhone, I took several short videos, and after viewing my favorite several times, I had the conversations and movements of my three granddaughters memorized. Only then did I begin zeroing in on the voice in the background, mine. As I followed the birthday girl and her pretty cousins from room to room, I constantly gave them warnings and instructions…in a loving way, of course.

As the video begins, Olivia is walking steadily across the kitchen, and as she nears the refrigerator, her gait is a bit wobbly, and it looks as though she might lose her balance. But no, she recovers quickly and moves towards the study. As she does so, the tiny tot realizes that there’s a threshold, a raised one that she must navigate. She puts her hand on the wall to steady herself and then takes a tentative step. In the background, Grandmama says, “Watch out, watch out. Be careful, Little One.”

A moment later, she’s rushing toward the kitchen again, this time with Brooke and Emma behind her. Once they’re all in the kitchen, Emma hugs her little cousin and when she releases her, Olivia falls. Undeterred, she immediately gets up and begins that race walking speed of hers. In the background, Grandmama says, “That’s right. Just get right back up and get going again.”

She heads to the bathroom and stares in through the open door. Remembering that she had locked herself in there earlier in the afternoon, Grandmama says to Brooke and Emma, “Watch out for her. She’s already locked herself in there once.” Her cousins do as instructed and rescue Olivia who then runs toward the study again. Once there, she plops down on the floor and pulls down a cookbook to look at. Grandmama can be heard in the background making a comment about reading.

In slightly over a minute, Grandmama has given some important life lessons:

• Watch out, especially when you’re walking over a threshold from one area of your life to another.
• Be careful.
• Get back up when you fall.
• Watch after each other.
• Delve into the books.

I’m not of shooting for the “Lois Award.” I’m just trying to be a good grandmother, and that short video shows that I’m on the right track. If a grandmother can say that much in slightly over a minute, just think what she (we) could do over a child's lifetime!

What about you? Are you a grandmother who’s involved in your grandchildren’s lives? Are there lessons that you're teaching by word and deed?

Lessons from Rebekah

Lately I’ve been pondering some of the stories about the women in the Bible. What were their personalities really like? What about their day-to-day lives and the decisions they made? The more I read, the more I wonder why some of them are even included. What are the lessons we’re supposed to learn from them?
Let’s take Rebekah, for instance. People name their daughters after her, and I’ve heard about the great love story between Isaac and her more times than I can recollect. Lately, however, I’ve been digging a little deeper, and I’m a little disturbed by some of my insights. I hope they’re amiss somehow and that maybe someone can shed a little more light on the subject.

On the plus side, Rebekah goes with Isaac’s servant to meet and marry a man she’s never met. Trusting God and His will for her life, she leaves her home in Nahor with a stranger and travels 500 miles to meet Isaac. That can’t have been much fun. Furthermore, she’s the mother of Jacob, the man who became the patriarch of the Twelve Tribes of Israel. But wait, isn’t she also the mother of Esau?

That brings me to the negative side. Not only did Rebekah connive with Jacob to take away Esau’s birthright, but in doing so, she also brought about a serious rift between brothers. Esau was so angry that he threatened to kill Jacob. In addition, in planning and executing this devious plan, Rebekah deceived her husband in a serious way. When Isaac discovered that he had inadvertently blessed Jacob instead of Esau, he was heartbroken; he couldn’t undo what had been done. Grieved at being deceived by his wife and younger son, he was also sorrowful that Esau wouldn’t receive what was rightfully his.

What are the lessons I’m supposed to learn from Rebekah? Is it okay to hoodwink your husband to get what you want for your beloved son? Speaking of sons, is it okay to play favorites? No, I don’t think so. At the same time, God told Rebekah that two nations were fighting within her womb and that the older would serve the younger. Perhaps she was remembering this promise when she planned the hoax. Perhaps she thought it was the best thing to do and that in carrying out her plan, she was simply doing her part to fulfill the prophecy.

So why is Rebekah so admired? Why are her virtues so extolled? Is it because she’s Isaac’s wife and matriarch of a dynasty? While it’s true that her story demonstrates the importance of a woman’s role in a family, there’s more to it than that. The decisions a woman makes can affect generations of her descendents.

Here’s what I think. I think Rebekah’s story remains in the Bible because, just like the rest of us, she was flawed. Families are complicated, and the relationships within them are dynamic and ever changing. Her love for Jacob and Isaac’s love for Esau could be demonstrated in homes all over the world. She and Jacob deliberately cooked up a sneaky scheme, and mothers everywhere are known to stretch the truth, withhold information, or champion the cause of one child or another. I’m not saying this is right; I’m saying it happens.

The Blind Side's Virtuous Woman

I keep thinking about a movie I saw Thanksgiving afternoon, The Blind Side. Starring Sandra Bullock, the movie chronicled the life of a family who “took in" a young black man and made him a part of their family. That’s actually an understatement. They loved him, taught him, took up for him, and included him in all aspects of their daily lives. Plus, they got involved in his life and nurtured and mentored him in sports and academics. In case you’re thinking that this was just another sappy, sentimental movie perfect for the holidays, think again. This movie is based on reality, and this family really exists. They live in Memphis, Tennessee. And the young black man? Well, he’s Michael Oher who plays for the Baltimore Ravens of the NFL.

What I’m leading up to is that the mother, Leigh Anne Tuohy, is like no one I’ve ever known. If anyone fits the description of the virtuous woman described in Proverbs, she does. Honestly, I know of no other woman who has willingly extended herself to that degree to another person, much less a homeless, impoverished young man from the other side of the tracks. Heck, I know women who are not even willing to make sacrifices for their own children, much less a child who is totally “different,” someone who’s a “project from the projects.” Nevertheless, Leigh Anne did. She gave him the basics of a bed, food, clothing, and then she set out to consult with his teachers, coach, and biological mother. She was “there” for him at practices and games and any other situation that a mother should be. Actually the entire family was involved, but it was the mom who was the catalyst behind everything from getting him off the rainy street to signing with Ole Miss.

So now Leigh Anne Tuohy is one of my new role models. I’m not as big hearted, generous, or influential as she is, and I suspect that you might not be either. However, there is something that each one of us can do for another person to make his or her life better, and I think that’s what our Creator expects us to do. He expects us to extend love to others at all times and in all places, but at this time of the year, it seems especially important.

So I don’t know about you, but as for me and my house, we’re committing to at least one extraordinary act of kindness every day of this special holiday season. I’ll never be Leigh Anne, and I feel totally inadequate when compared to the virtuous woman in Proverbs, and yet there’s something I can do. And there’s something you can do too. Let’s commit to it today.

Our Children

I have Mary on my mind again today. I’ve been rereading passages from Jesus the Christ by Talmadge and was particularly captivated by his comments about Mary’s understanding of her son and his divine mission. Remember when she and Joseph were on the way home from Jerusalem and discovered that Jesus was not among them? They returned to the temple and found him talking with the learned rabbis and told him that they had been worried about him. Seemingly surprised, he answered, “How is it that ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?”

Mary was his mother; about that the scriptures are clear. At this juncture, however, it’s almost as if she has forgotten her son’s divine paternity. Joseph was not his father, and his father had not been looking for him for he was at that moment in his father’s house. Nevertheless, recognizing Joseph’s and his mother’s guardianship of him, Jesus left with them for Nazareth.

According to Talmadge, Mary appears to have never really understood her son and states, “He was hers, and yet in a very real sense not wholly hers.” I’ve read that sentence over and over again with this thought: That’s the same with all children. They’re ours but not really wholly ours. They all have their spark of divinity, and we as mothers are responsible for giving them birth and guiding and loving them.

I think all mothers have experienced moments when we’ve asked ourselves questions such as, “Where did this child come from?” “Where did she or he get this particular talent or propensity?” "Why can't I make him do what I want him to (we know best, right?)" I think these moments become increasingly frequent as our children advance into the teen years. By the time they’re young adults, sometimes they seem like strangers to us. Where did the swaddled infant go? How did this child get to be so savvy, knowledgeable, opinionated, aloof, or whatever the adjective might be?

It sort of reminds me of the passage from Kahlil Gibran’s “On Children.” I’m not comparing us to Mary. I’m saying that our children are not truly ours. They belong to God. They have their own hearts and minds, and they’re on loan to us for a while.

On Children
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Modern Day Eves

My daughter Carrie is the consummate wife and mother. She often bakes her own bread, sews pajamas for her little ones, prepares exquisite meals, chauffeurs her children to and from school and a host of other activities, and has a demanding church calling. She’s a gifted photographer, excellent writer, and faithful blogger. And did I mention that her husband is the bishop of their ward? And that she’s a stay-at-home mom? She is. And she’s remarkably good at it too. She has her “finger on the pulse” of everyone’s moods, proclivities, concerns, and needs. Warm and gentle, she can also turn into a strict disciplinarian when needed…and into a tigress if anyone says anything disparaging about her husband or children. In my somewhat biased opinion, she’s the perfect Mormon mom…and wife too.

I, on the other hand, worked full-time throughout the entirety of my children’s youth. Sure, I took time off for their deliveries but returned to work shortly thereafter. I hated leaving them when they were babies, and it still makes my heart hurt. Still, I tried not to think about it too much, for I could see that it was necessary. Time went by, and my little brood got older. Working didn’t seem so odious anymore. In fact, I rather enjoyed it and the “say-do” it gave me in our family’s financial decisions. I once read in a sociology text that women who didn’t work outside of the home were in the same position as unpaid servants. Not too desirable, I thought. I liked not having to ask for money or for permission to buy an occasional bauble. Plus, I know my husband appreciated that I was a helpmeet to him.

At home, I was a loving wife and mother-just like Carrie. I even went through a season of baking bread; I was fascinated with yeast and its powerful properties. Too, I loved the way baking bread made the house smell and the happiness it brought my family to taste the home baked bread. Although I wasn’t a gourmet cook like my daughter, I managed to prepare meals every night, and it was important that we eat together. I also went through a smocking stage, and my little girls were the most adorable ones in church with their little smocked dresses. I even smocked a couple of little outfits for Paul. Cross stitching, crewel, and candle wicking also had their season. As the children got older, I was their chauffeur and their biggest fan at dance recitals, church activities, and sporting events. In church together every Sunday, we were a model family.

Ah, in church. That’s where I got the most flak about being a working mother. I knew in my heart of hearts (whatever in heaven’s name that means) that my children “might” be better off if I’d been in the home 24/7. I knew that our church leaders encouraged moms to stay with their children during their formative years. I KNEW all of that, but it didn’t change our circumstances, and hearing it week after week was guilt producing and hurtful.

Why am I writing this? I think Kristi struck a responsive chord with her post. Hers was funny and made me chuckle. She’s a working mother too…and a good one. There are thousands and thousands of Jaynes and Kristis out there who are just doing the best we can to raise our families and make our way through this life and into the next one with our loved ones. There’s no one right way to do this.