Summary: Mother’s Day Sermon
Who Is My Mother?
On Mother’s Day, we usually take time to honor our biological parents or our adoptive parents. That a good thing to do and hopefully, we honor them all year long and not just on the "legal" day. Scripture tells us that a man who finds a wife finds a good thing. (Proverbs 18:22 (quickview) ) If a child has a good mother, that child is indeed blessed. Sadly, many of us do not realize how good our mother was until they are passed on and then we cannot show them the honor they deserve.
My own mother, Darlis Louise (Diehl) Shultz, and I had a pretty terrible relationship until I was an adult. It took that long for us both to be saved and for me to truly understand the trials of raising a child alone. I was nearly killed in the car accident that killed my father. I was not quite seven and my Mom was only twenty-five when she became a widow.
It was not easy raising a child in the sixties. It was tough for a two-parent family. It was Hell for a single mother. Mom did not have much of a support group. My Dad’s family did little to help her and she was the baby of seven, but for various reasons, her family was not much help. My maternal grandmother was a Christian and tried to stabilize her family. We lost her eleven days after the youngest of her sons died and the family was never the same. My Mom cared for her father the last few years of his life.
I was sixteen in 1968 and a flower child. I wanted to live the life of peace, love and power to the people. I wanted to burn down the establishment. I believed authority was designed to be rebelled against. You can see what a problem my Mom had. I was voted most likely to be in jail in high school. I was kicked out a month before graduation, Mom begged the school to take me back, and they did.
Mom was not perfect and she had her struggles with the loss of her husband and the care of this budding juvenile delinquent. She drank to forget and to cope. Sadly, no Christians were about to help her or me. At least, they did not seem to be in our lives. Oh, yes, I attended a denominational church. I sang in the choir. The rest of the boys in the choir and I swapped dirty jokes in the loft, as we watched the old folks nod out after they checked out who came in with who and how they were dressed. Consequently, the church had little impact on her or me. If the preacher ever called on us, I was never there when he did.
Mom had a tough life. By His grace, we both received Christ in 1975 and things were better. We both had wounds and there were still some rocky times. I was able to hold bible studies in her house while I was in college and spend some good times with her before she died a few days after her fifty-fifth birthday in 1989. As a child, I often wished her dead, but it was hard to stop the tears as I held her funeral and eulogized her.
I did not know how much she loved me and how hard she tried to teach me right until she was gone. I miss her. I hope none of you will wait until your mother is gone before you learn to appreciate her. Let her know now!