From the Pastor’s Heart OP-ED BY DR. ROBERT KENNEDY
A few days ago, I was praying with a young man who lost his mother in the past year, and a heavy burden came upon my heart as I thought about him facing this Mother’s Day without his mother. In the prayer with him, I asked that God would pour upon his heart the grace of healing and comfort as he faces Mothers’ Day. My mother passed away some nine years ago at age 96. I had the opportunity to eulogize her, and I still miss her.
After the prayer with my young friend, I began to reflect on the many children who have lost their mothers during the pandemic and of the many others who have lost their mothers. I also thought deeply, of the many mothers, at the Southern border of the United States who have had their children ripped out of their arms and separated from them for over a hear. The latest count I heard is that there are 1,000 such mothers. And now, while the current administration is making efforts to reunite mothers with their children, it isn’t easy because many mothers cannot be found. In the haste of separation, proper record-keeping was not a priority. The last count I heard was that only four of the 1,000 children are reunited.
Of course, my mind is stretching far, concerning the many mothers who are losing their children to sex trafficking and the sad hearts of mothers whose children are being killed in multiple wars being fought worldwide. Even more touching in my immediate frame are the many tearful mothers whose sons are victims of police shootings. And I do not want to forget the multiple under-reported cases of children killed in gang fights.
The point I make is that while I am celebrating this Mother’s Day, asking God to bless the many heroines, I am praying a special prayer that God will heal the hearts of those that are empty, broken, hurting, sad, and troubled.
As I think of the many sad hearts of the heroines, I think of the biblical story, where Jesus was visiting a little city called Nain. On the road, Jesus saw a funeral train. Amidst the mourners, a woman was walking behind the bier. Jesus stopped and gave due attention.
Here is how Dr. Luke tells the story (Luke 7:11-15 NKJV): “Now it happened, the day after, that He went into a city called Nain; and many of His disciples went with Him and a large crowd. And when He came near the gate of the city, behold, a dead man was being carried out, the only son of his mother; and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ Then He came and touched the open coffin, and those who carried him stood still. And He said, ‘Young man, I say to you, arise.’ So he who was dead sat up and began to speak. And He presented him to his mother.”
Wow! What a story? As I am thinking of it, I am saying how blessed many mothers would have been if they saw Jesus passing nearby? He would have raised their children killed in the pandemic of COVID-19; the pandemic of the killings of young black men and women by the police; or in the other pandemics of sex trafficking, wars and gang warfare. And in the converse, how many children would not feel blessed if Jesus were walking down a road to raise some of these heroine mothers in the buoyancy of their youth?
I said, in the buoyancy of their youth, because I too would like to have my mother back, but not in the way she was up to the time of her death. Seven years before her death, she became depressed after her two younger sisters, and one of her younger sons died. Then she went into selective mutism, then dementia, and finally total silence.
It was quite painful when we visited her as we would think back on her radiant personality. She who nurtured us, fed us, taught us, came to our rooms with her lamp in the nights to check on us and talk with us, was now in a deteriorated state. She was sitting there looking at us, while we were staring back at her, in quietness. We were not sure how much she understood what we were saying, so we just remained silent.
The same is true as I watched the journey of my special friend, I mean, my mother-in-law, on her way to death at 95. As she trekked on her journey to the inevitable moment of her death, I often noticed her embarrassment for losing her competencies. And at the moment of her death, we said, “Praise the Lord,” not because we were glad for the separation, not because we did not love her, but because we could not stand to see her suffering any longer.
Yes, we were able to say “Praise the Lord,” at my mother-in-law’s death, as we did at my mother’s, and some of you might have done the same at your mothers’ and might be apt to do in some future time, not because of the death, but because of the assurance that Jesus is coming again, and has made a promise that he will call our mothers – heroines to life. The same words that Jesus said before the bier on the road to Nain will be heard on resurrection day. (Put your mother’s name or your child’s name following) “_______, I say to you arise.”
I can’t speak for all of you who might be reading this, but I am looking forward to the “R” Day. And I know that some of you are saying the same. Whether they are gone before us or whether we will be gone before them, let us celebrate the HEROINES (MOTHERS) and wait for the Day. THANKS MOTHERS.
