She Meddles Not: In Praise of a Non-Meddlesome Mom

Posted on May 10, 2020June 8, 2020 by abigail

She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.

Proverbs 31:26

I could go right down Proverbs 31 line by line and apply each virtue to Mom. It would be easy. Because my mom is easy to praise. In fact, that’s how this post started (See me later for that draft, Mom.)

But one bit of wisdom mom has given from me is: Short and sweet, Girl. Get past the curse of knowledge.

So I’ll try that. I won’t assume background knowledge. I’ll be short and sweet.

Here’s one more reason I praise my mom.

Mom Doesn’t Meddle

Meddling means interfering. Not minding your business. Sometimes I struggle with that. Not meddling isn’t among the virtues hailed in Proverbs 31. But it’s between the lines. Because children don’t rise up and call a meddling mom blessed. And because meddling flies in the face of laughing at the days to come (31:25), nor is it wise (31:26).

In fact, the word meddle isn’t used much in the Bible. But the one time that jumps to mind is 1 Peter 4:15. Make sure that none of you suffers as a murderer, or thief, or evildoer, or a troublesome meddler. Yes, meddler. Peter lists it right there with murderer and thief as behaviors that bring suffering down on us. Mom knows this.

I can count on one hand- maybe on 1 finger, maybe none!- the number of times in my adult life that Mom has given unwanted advice. She uses her words with restraint (Proverbs 17:27) and knows that holding her tongue is wise (Proverbs 10:19).

When I share my own mom struggles with my mom her MO is to 1. listen well, 2. purse her lips, 3. nod her head, then maybe ask, 4. Want my advice, Babe?

Such restraint. Such wisdom. What a gift from my non-meddlesome mom.

Not Meddling Does Not Mean Un-Involved

Which is not at all to say Mom’s hands-off or uninvolved. In fact, those words couldn’t be further from the truth. Mom is in our lives in so many kind, daily ways.

Ducks in garden pond — “Lucky Ducks” mom wrote.

Hardly a day goes by without a happy text or punny picture. Yesterday was “Two Canadian guests at our lakeside property.” The pic-fowl swimming in their flooded garden puddle.

During garden season, we await mom’s weekly, post-farmer’s market calls: Hi Babe, here’s what we’ve got.

Then she lists what’s left- seasonal, of course- radishes, peas, lettuce, asparagus, and a fresh bouquet for you. Just tell me what you want and we’ll bring it.

But she doesn’t force it on us or ask why we don’t take turnips (a private matter between Jim and me).

A person convinced against his will is of the same opinion still.

That’s actually a quote from my Jim’s grandma, not Mom. But Mom knows it. Because she doesn’t advise when we we don’t want advice. That said, she has given me some pretty wise advice.

Mark Twain said something to the effect of, “My father was an amazing man. The older I got, the smarter he got.” I feel the same way about my mom. The older I get the more I want her advice.

She gave kindly yesterday when she dropped off the first run of rhubarb, when the talk turned again to the sons.

Give the last word. Choose your battles. Trust God. And pray.

Beautiful

Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.Proverbs 31:30 is truth. And one big way we can “see” that someone fears the Lord is when she follows Jesus.

Do you remember the exchange in Luke 12 when someone in the crowd tried to get Jesus to meddle? Spoiler alert: He didn’t.

Instead, Jesus said to him,

“Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?”

Beautiful people look like Jesus.

And like my non-meddlesome Mom.

Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before.

1 Thessalonians 4:11

The Carnation Conundrum: Who Gets Flowers On Mother’s Day?

Posted on May 4, 2016May 8, 2022 by abigail

Should we give flowers to all the mothers? It was an innocent question.

But it got so complicated.

Not that everyone involved in the wasn’t gracious. Everyone was. But the email thread got tangled.

Who Gets Flowers?

Maybe all the kids could hand the flowers out?

No, we’d better not. Some moms might get overlooked. That’s uncomfortable.

Plus, some who aren’t moms might be mistaken and get a flower, too. That’s awkward.

Besides,”Children are a gift from the Lord; the fruit of the womb is a reward.” Why heap gifts on the gifted?

The gift could hurt all the ladies who have longed to hear but never heard a child call them Mom.

And cause pain for mothers whose children are prodigal or gone.

And what about all the guys? (Dad’s Root Beer all around come June?)

Sometimes I struggle to show sympathy. That’s why my carnation reluctance surprised me.

But it’s these words-Let all you do be done in love– not the avoidance of discomfort-that should guide us. Comfort is overrated. Because the God who is love didn’t promise pain-free. The God of all comfort didn’t canonize comfortable.

We are called to honor our mother (and father).

Honor Your Mother

Every last one of us has a mother. So Mother’s Day is a holiday for all of us. We’re all called to honor our mothers. It might mean a grown child pauses to remember the good in a mom who is gone. And if Mom is with us, we let her know she’s valued. Honor is due.

Honor might mean carnations. It might mean a card or a call or a brunch. Or “one pass to the barbar and a bakrub,” unexpectedly came my way yesterday.

But some women deserve more than the honor that comes from being a mother. Sometimes special praise is due.

Praise Due

Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but the woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates. That’s verses 30 and 31 of Proverbs 31.

Why should we praise a faithful lady?

Pastor John Piper offers some great reasons.

1) It honors God. We must not think here that in praising the woman we are giving to her what belongs to God. There is a sense in which all praise, just like all boasting (1 Corinthians 1:31), should be in the Lord. But since the Lord has made the world and is at work in us fallen creatures, it is possible to praise him indirectly by praising something he made or praising something that exalts him […]Therefore, when we praise a woman who fears the Lord, we praise God.

2) It strengthens her hand in the Lord. There are always temptations to allure us away from the fear of God: temptations to fear financial insecurity more than we fear God (cf. Proverbs 23:17), to fear rejection by our peers more than we fear God, to fear the loss of time spent in good deeds more than we fear God…Again and again we must have our hand strengthened in God. We need to hear a saintly person say, “Well done. I love the way you fear the Lord.”

So let’s hand out those carnations. But maybe flowers go to the mothers and some others.

To Mothers and Others

Because, Who really is my mother?

It turns out the Lord Jesus Christ—the Son of God, Son of Man—answered that, and in doing so, turned earthly relationships upside down.

And when his own mother and brothers asked to see him, Jesus said, ‘Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?’ And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mothers and my brothers!’
Matthew 12:48-49

Luke records this short exchange. In a way, it complicates my carnation conundrum even more.

“Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which you nursed!” a woman cried out to Jesus. And he turned and said, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!”
Luke 11:27

What is this that Mary’s son says? Is he really saying what it sounds like he’s saying, that the obedient Christian— mother or not, married or not—is of mother status?

It does sound that way.

But back to the carnation conundrum. I wonder what Jesus would say.

Would Jesus Hand Out Flowers?

If Christ would weigh in our Mother’s Day thread, do you think it might sound something like this?

Mothers, be thankful. Honor your mother. Be glad in the kids I gave you and treasure good things in your heart. Savor your role as Keeper of the Springs. Always be leaning into me, abiding in me. Feed on my Word. Their eyes are wide-open, watching everyday, so live like you need me. Show your kids that you know you are not their Savior. But live so they want to know yours. Help them want to know me.
Others, be thankful. Honor your mother. But, my child, if you are childless, know that there is a better name than sons and daughters. Our Father’s-family grows through faith in me. The bonds you have to me and my Body, the Church, are stronger and tighter, more permanent and more precious even than family ties. Marriage is temporary. Whatever state you’re in, remain in me.
Mothers, one last word to you. It is your day, after all. Be sure you know my better name, the sweeter name than Mom. Keep your heart-eyes clear to see motherhood as the sweet gift, and terrible God that it is. Don’t idolize your kids. A sensitive son or devoted daughter can never deliver the forever satisfying joy found only in me. So come to me. Keep coming to me.

And when disrespect and complaining cut you deep and when sweet “bakrubs and barbar” treatment comes, your prayer can stay the same: Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days” (Psalm 90:14).

Far as the Curse is Found

We’re all wounded. Whet—mothers and daughters and fathers and sons, single and married and adopted and orphaned—all of us wounded. Sin stains, disease maims, and words do hurt. The curse is still found far.

Far into lonely hearts of singles and aching arms of the post-abortive, the empty wombs of the infertile and broken hearts of moms of prodigals. It reaches into broken hearts of grieving moms who never saw their kids grow up and into wounded hearts of grown up kids whose moms never got to see them all growed-up. The Fall reaches far.

Its long reach means even a carnation can hurt.

There is no pain-free, awkward-less solution this side of heaven. A sword will pierce your own heart, Simeon said. Mary watched her Son die. And when he rose, he went away.

On Mother’s Day, I wonder if mother Mary’s son and Savior might say to all of us for whom this day brings some pain, I know. It’ll be okay. okay. One day it’ll all be swallowed up. Until then, praise the ones who fear me and honor your mother on Mother’s Day.

A carnation just might be a splendid way.