This coming Saturday I will be sharing at a Mother Child Tea. In preparation for this I have been praying and setting my face toward the Word and digging into the Scriptures… and one of my favorite ways to do that is through word study.
As I researched I looked up the meaning of the word “mother” in the Greek. The first use of the word mother in the New Testament is in the book of Matthew,
Now the birth of Jesus Christ was as follows: when His mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit.
Matthew 1:18
The word for mother here is meter and it is pronounced, may’-tare. Metaphorically this word means the source of something.
This past Saturday my sisters and my mother and I sat around my dining room table. We sat there and talked and laughed and shared our hearts and shared memories and moments and encouragements and we shared our concerns for our children’s future in this day in which we are living…
As we sat there around that table, we shared some of the lies that are being fed our children by the enemy of this world…
My mother began to share a story of when she was in high school. She shared how there was a girl she went to school with who grew up with all brothers. With this she was what we have always called a “tomboy”. She just was not very girley. She was stocky and strong and her mannerisms just were not very feminine.
Unfortunately in this day and age our society and culture takes these young girls (and young men who may have been raised by all girls and just not appear that masculine) and begins pushing the lie in their heads that they are this way because they are transgender or homosexual. There was a time when this lie would not be able to take root until well into upper high school or college… but today these precious children are defined as such in elementary school… picked at… teased… accused… words are powerful… and even words that are lies have power for a while.
Now this young girl that my mother went to school with was a tomboy. My mother shared how a group of the “popular girls” decided to play a mean joke on this young girl. The “popular girls” signed her up for the beauty walk. They signed her up because they thought it would be hilarious to watch this tomboy try to dress up like a beauty queen. They hoped to get a good laugh at her expense by embarrassing her.
My mother caught wind of these girls mean intentions. So she and a best friend of hers decided to do something about it.
You see my mother was crowned the year before. She knew what the judges would be looking for and she knew how to bring out the true beauty of this young girl, because my mother saw past the tomboy, she saw this young girl’s heart.
My mother and her best friend went to the “tomboy’s” house and they helped her pick out a dress. They told her to put away that fru-foo dress and helped her choose a more simple style. Then they washed all the gunk off of her face that made her look fake and clownish and they applied the simplest make-up to this young girl, just enough to enhance the beauty she already carried. They fixed her hair, likewise, with simplicity and authenticity.
The young girl came to the beauty walk… and in this day, you didn’t just walk out and turn, you actually had to answer questions and list things that you were involved in, so the judges could see what was on the inside of you, not just the outside.
After this young girl walked out on stage and answered her questions she received a standing ovation from her peers… and she was crowned the winner of the beauty walk that year.
I sat there at my dining room table and listened to my mother share this story and my heart was about to burst… this was my mother, my meter (may’tare). This was my source… this was who I came from… this is the reason that my favorite movies are the She’s All That‘s.
My mother has always been that way. I remember her growing angry at teachers who labeled kids as the “bad kid” and I remember seeing how her respect would grow for teachers who refused to listen to the teachers who would attempt to pass the “labels” up to them.
I remember watching tv as a child with my mother and seeing my first feed the children by adopting a child commercial and when I bursted into uncontrollable tears over what I saw and heard, I remember seeing my mother go immediately to the phone and commit to a child.
I remember my mother always fighting for the least of these and never tolerating injustice. I remember her being small yet one of the strongest women I would ever know…
Mother.
Meter (may’tare).
The source of something.
The question mothers that are reading this now is… what will be the something?
What will you be the source of in your child’s life?
(next post in this series is The Call of a Mother)