“AN UN-SMOTHERING LOVE”

EXODUS 2:1-10

2:1  Now a man from the house of Levi went and married a Levite woman.

2  The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a fine baby, she hid him three months.

3  When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river.

4  His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

5  The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it.

6  When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him, "This must be one of the Hebrews' children," she said.

7  Then his sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, "Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?"

8  Pharaoh's daughter said to her, "Yes." So the girl went and called the child's mother.

9  Pharaoh's daughter said to her, "Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages." So the woman took the child and nursed it.

10  When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, "because," she said, "I drew him out of the water."

Erma Bombeck was one of America’s best loved mothers.  One of the things people liked about her was that she never sugar coated what it was like raising children.  Erma knew that being a mother is one of the most challenging jobs out there. In one of her columns she wrote that among other things, “Mothers have to remember what food each child likes or dislikes, which one is allergic to penicillin and hamster fur, who gets carsick and who isn't kidding when he stands outside the bathroom door and tells you what's going to happen if he doesn't get in right away. It's tough. If they all have the same hair color they tend to run together.”

Love isn’t always warm and fuzzy. Sometimes love is hard and it hurts.  Sometimes it forces you to make painful decisions. That’s something that Jochebed had to do after her baby was born.  Jochebed knew that his life was in danger.  So, she did what she had to do.  She gently laid him in that basket of reeds and put it in the Nile River.  It may have been what she had to do, but can you imagine how hard it must have been for her to make that decision?  It must have broken her heart.

I came to understand what it must have been like for Jochebed seventeen years ago when I made the decision to search for my birthmother. Shortly after I made that decision I came across a poem that was written by a woman who did the same thing that Jochebed did.  The poem is called “The Legacy Of An Adopted Child” and it goes like this:

Once there were two women who never knew each other.

One you do not remember, the other you call Mother.

Two very different lives, shaped to make you one.

One became your guiding star, the other became your sun.

The first one gave you life, and the second taught you to live it.

The first gave you a need for love.  The second was there to give it.

One gave you a nationality.  The other gave you a name.

One gave you a talent.  The other gave you aim.

One gave you emotions.  The other calmed your fears.

One saw your first sweet smile.  The other dried your tears.

One sought for you a home that she could not provide.

The other prayed for a child and her hope was not denied.

And now you ask me, through your tears,

The age-old question unanswered through the years.

Heredity or environment, which are you the product of?

Neither, my darling, neither. Just two different kinds of Love.

Sometimes love is hard and it hurts. It hurts when your son does something wrong and you have to punish him.  It hurts when your mother is on life support and you know that she wouldn’t want to live her life that way.  So you make the decision to pull the plug. It hurts when you forgive someone who took advantage of you or wasn’t there for you when you were having a hard time. It even hurts a little when the last of your children leaves home and goes off to college.

That last scenario is what prompted Erma Bombeck to also write these words of wisdom, “When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to…spectator. It's like being the vice president of the United States.”

Sometimes love is hard and it hurts. That by the way is one way of finding out if someone is serious when it comes to following Jesus. Can you love when it’s hard and it hurts?  You see, it’s easy to love when a child brings home a report card with A’s on it.  It’s easy to love when you’re sitting under the stars with someone really special.  It’s easy to love when your son or daughter calls you up and says, “Guess what?  You’re going to be a grandma.”

What do you do though when a friend disappoints you or a child disobeys you?  Miss Lillian knew what that was like. Miss Lillian, of course, was President Jimmy Carter’s mother.  You may also remember that she had another son who was more infamous than famous.  Remember Billy Carter?  Billy never amounted to much and he was always saying something outrageous or outlandish.  For example, shortly after his brother was nominated to run for president a reporter asked Billy if it bothered him being somewhat peculiar.  Billy replied, “My mother went into the Peace Corps when she was sixty-eight years old; my youngest sister is a holy-roly preacher; my other sister is eight years older than I am and spends half her time on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle; and my brother thinks he’s going to be president of the United States!  I’m the only one in the family who is normal!”  Billy was a hard drinking, constantly cussing nobody who worked when he felt like it in a small town gas station.  All of that is why reporters were surprised at Miss Lillian’s reaction after her other son was elected president. Miss Lillian was walking down Pennsylvania Ave. in the Inaugural Parade when a reporter asked her, “Miss Lilian, aren’t you proud of your son?”  Puzzled, Miss Lillian replied, “Which one?”

Can you love when it’s hard and it hurts? The answer to that question is yes; absolutely yes! How can I be so sure about that? The answer is simple. If it were impossible for you to love when it’s hard and it hurts, Jesus never would have said, “Love one another even as I have loved you.” (John 13:32) Jesus said that because he knew that God gave you the ability to love the same way he loved us when he went to the Cross.

You have the ability to love when it’s hard and it hurts.  The temptation though is always there to slide into the love that wants everything to be warm and fuzzy, the love that wants everything to be quick and easy, the love that wants to smooth the problem over instead of really facing it.

I wonder about that every spring when I see kids getting ready for their senior prom.  It’s an exciting time for them, but I wonder what kind of love they’re getting when I see them heading off to their proms in glittery gowns and long limousines.  Now don’t get me wrong.  There’s nothing wrong with glittery gowns and long limousines as long as they’re also getting the love that they really need.

That question is what led one grandfather to write these words of wisdom shortly after his grandson was born.  He began with this observation:

“We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse.

For my grandchildren, I’d know better.

I’d really like for (my grandson) to know about hand-me-down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf.  I really would.

My cherished grandson, I hope you learn humility by surviving failure and that you learn to be honest even when no one is looking.

I hope you learn to make your bed and mow the lawn and wash the car – I hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen…

I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.

I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brothers.  And it is all right to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he’s scared, I hope you’ll let him.

I hope you have to walk uphill with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely…

I hope you get razzed by friend when you have your first crush on a girl, and that when you talk back to your mother you learn what Ivory soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on the stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.

I hope you get sick when someone blows smoke in your face.  I don’t care if you try beer once, but I hope you won’t like it. And if a friend offers you a joint or any drugs, I hope you are smart enough to realize that person is not your friend…

I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through a neighbor’s window, and that she hugs you and kisses you when you give her a plaster of paris mold of your hand.

These things I wish for you – tough times and disappointments, hard work and happiness.

It sounds strange, but sometimes love mean you hope that someone gets a black eye, has to mow the lawn, and learns what Ivory soap tastes. Sometimes love means you give your baby away.  Jesus knew that for him love meant suffering an agonizing death on a cross.  It’s one of life’s realities. Sometimes the most loving thing that you can do is the thing that hurts you the most.  Amen.

Rev. Dr. Richard A. Hughes

May 14, 2006 – Mother’s Day