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Gold,
Common Sense and Fur
My
husband and I had been happily (most of the
time) married for five years, but hadn't been
blessed with a baby. I decided to do some
serious praying and promised God that if He
would give us a child, I would be a perfect
mother, love it with all my heart and raise it
with His word as my guide. God answered my
prayers and blessed us with a son.
The next year God
blessed us with another son.
The following year, He
blessed us with yet another son.
The year after that we
were blessed with a daughter.
My husband thought we'd been blessed right into
poverty. We now had four children, and the
oldest was only four years old. I learned never
to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a
minister once told me,
"If you pray for rain,
make sure you carry an umbrella."
I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the
children each day as they lay in their cribs. I
was off to a good start. God had entrusted me
with four children and I didn't want to
disappoint Him. I tried to be patient the day
the children smashed two dozen eggs on the
kitchen floor searching for baby chicks. I tried
to be understanding when they started a hotel
for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom,
although it took me nearly two hours to catch
all twenty-three frogs.
When my daughter poured ketchup all over
herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it
felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor
rather than the mess.In spite of changing over
twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot
meal and never sleeping for more than thirty
minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for
my children.
While I couldn't keep my promise to be a
perfect mother, I didn't even come close. I did
keep my promise to raise them in the Word of
God. I knew I was missing the mark just a
little when I told my daughter we were going to
church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a
bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus,
too.
Something was lost in the translation when I
explained that God gave us everlasting life, and
my son thought it was generous of God to give us
his "last wife."
My proudest moment came during the children's
Christmas pageant. My daughter was playing Mary,
two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest
son was a wise man. This was their moment to
shine. My five-year-old shepherd had practiced
his line,
"We found the babe
wrapped in swaddling clothes."
But he was nervous and said,
"The baby was wrapped
in wrinkled clothes."
My
four-year-old "Mary" said,
"That's not
'wrinkled clothes,' silly. That's dirty, rotten
clothes."
A
wrestling match broke out between Mary and the
shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent
her halo and lost her left wing. I slouched a
little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the
doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced
down the aisle crying, "Mama, Mama."
Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and
held it tightly as the wise men arrived. My
other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and
a paper crown, knelt at the manger and
announced,
"We are the three wise
men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common
sense and fur."
The congregation dissolved into laughter, and
the pageant got a standing ovation.
"I've never enjoyed a
Christmas program as much as this one,"
Pastor
Brian laughed, wiping tears from his eyes.
"For the rest of my
life, I'll never hear the Christmas story
without thinking of gold, common sense and fur."
"My children are my
pride and my joy and my greatest blessing,"
I
said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin.
Author Unknown
I'm certainly glad God
has a sense of humor... He has to have because
He made me!!
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