97 Sermon Illustrations on Mother

A few months ago, when I was picking up the children at school, another mother I knew well rushed up to me. Emily was fuming with indignation.

“Do you know what you and I are?” she demanded.

Before I could answer – and I didn’t really have one handy she blurted out the reason for her question. It seemed she had just returned from renewing her driver’s license at the County Clerk’s office. Asked by the woman recorder to state her “occupation,” Emily had hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. “What I mean is,” explained the recorder, “Do you have a job, or are you just a… ?”

“Of course I have a job,” snapped Emily. “I’m a mother.”

“We don’t list ‘mother’ as an occupation… ‘housewife’ covers it,” said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title, like “Official Interrogator” or “Town Registrar.” “And what is your occupation?” she probed. What made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out.

“I’m … a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations.”

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in mid-air, and looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pompous pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

“Might I ask,” said the clerk with new interest, “just what you do in your field?” Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, “I have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn’t) in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and out). I’m working for my Masters (the whole darned family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are in satisfaction rather than just money.”

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk’s voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door. As I drove into our driveway buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants — ages 13, 7, and 3. And upstairs, I could hear our new experimental model (six months) in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt triumphant. I had scored a beat on bureaucracy. And I had gone down on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than “just another… “ What a glorious career.

“I think true mothers everywhere

Are gently brushed by angel wings

And in some stillness hear God speak,

‘Your child can do great things!’

And so a mother dreams her dreams,

And has the love to see

In every struggling, stumbling child

What God knows he can be!

How can I fail to seek His will,

And follow in His way –

When I have known my mother’s prayers

Lifting me up each day?”

Was your Mom mean? I know mine was. We had the meanest mother in the whole world! While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to have cereal, eggs, and toast.

When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch, we had to eat sandwiches. And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was different from what other kids had, too.

Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were convicts in a prison. She had to know who our friends were, and what we were doing with them. She insisted that if we said we would be gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less.

We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the Child Labor Laws by making us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the beds, learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do the laundry, and all sorts of cruel jobs. I think she would lie awake at night thinking of more things for us to do.

She always insisted on us telling the truth the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds. Then, life was really tough!

Mother wouldn’t let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up. They had to come up to the door so she could meet them. While everyone else could date when they were 12 or 13, we had to wait until we were 15 or 16.

Because of our mother, we missed out on lots of things other kids experienced. None of us have ever been caught vandalizing other’s property or ever arrested for any crime. It was all her fault. We never got drunk, took up smoking, stayed out all night, or a million other things other kids did.

Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. We are doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was. I think that is what’s wrong with the world today. It just doesn’t have enough mean moms anymore.

A weary mother returned from the store,

Lugging groceries through the kitchen door,

Awaiting her arrival was her 8 year son,

Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.

“While I was out playing and Dad was on call,

T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!

It’s on the new paper you just hung in the den.

I told him you’d be mad at having to do it again.”

She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,

“Where is your little brother right now!”

She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,

She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.

She called his full name as she entered his room.

He trembled with fear — he knew that meant doom!

For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved

About the expensive wallpaper that she had saved.

Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,

She condemned his actions and total lack of care.

The more she scolded, the madder she got,

Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!

She headed for the den to confirm her fears.

When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.

The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.

It said, “I love Mommy,” surrounded by a heart.

Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,

With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.

A reminder to her, and indeed to us all.

Take time to read the handwriting on the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t marry the person you can live with, marry the person you can’t live without.”

”Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. They will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck” — (Proverbs 1:8-9, NIV).

A word for mothers (and fathers): “We raise not the children we want, but the children that we the parents are” … therefore:

One of the greatest things that we, as parents (fathers as well as mothers), can do for our children, after showing them the way to Jesus, is to be real, to be authentic and to become (and model by our example) the persons that God wants us to be and pray that our children will want the same for themselves. That is, that they will want to be what God wants them to be — and not what we want them to be or do!

“I took a piece of plastic clay

And idly fashioned it one day;

And as my fingers pressed it still,

It moved and yielded at my will.

I came again when days were past,

The form I gave it still it bore,

And as my fingers pressed it still,

I could change that form no more.

I took a piece of living clay,

And gently formed it day by day,

And molded with my power and art,

A young child’s soft and yielding heart.

I came again when days were gone;

It was a man I looked upon,

He still that early impress bore,

And I could change it never more.

— Author Unknown

Suggested prayer: “Dear God, please help to become the person you envisioned for me to be so that I will be an example for my children, my loved ones, my friends and all to see God’s love shining through me. Gratefully in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

An insight into the plight of women from antiquity to today.

Thousands of years ago, our Creator had a divine thought: to give to man a "help-meet." Our God knew that man could not do the job by himself. He needed someone else to help meet humanity's needs--and God's.

This brilliant innovation was woman.

The book of Genesis tells us that she was created out of one of man's ribs (Genesis 2:21-22). I believe this was a strategic idea in order for woman to have her rightful place in this world. God did not choose a piece of Adam's head, so that woman would be over him; nor did He select a piece from Adam's foot, so that he would step on her. Rather, our loving Creator chose man's rib, so that woman was taken from his side--to be his equal...from under his arm--to be protected by him...and from near his heart--to be loved by him.

But this column is about women's plight--because it is a shame that it has taken from the beginning of time until today for this divine thought to become reality.

I have said many times in my life, "Woman, thou art loosed" to countless thousands in person, or via print or satellite, and this has not been in vain. I say it as a reminder, and as a way to give memory to the social, cultural, and political matriarchs of our era, and of eras past. They have given today's woman liberty to be loosed--not just loosed from a spiritual ribcage but from eons of oppressive thought and bias that has echoed in their ears: "You can't do that as well as I can. You are a woman."

From Sarah to the Virgin Mary, from Sojourner Truth to Harriet Tubman, from Susan B. Anthony to Ida B. Wells-Barnett, women have achieved important accomplishments. They have had to conquer myths of their inadequacies and strive for an equality that God intended for them all along. This reality largely exists now, but do many of us take time to consider the risks of many courageous women? In light of Women's History Month, I think we should take that trip back in time to remember what they endured.

When most children discuss brave women, usually they talk about their mothers; however, have any of them been taught about their ancestral motherhood?

A poor boy lay ill in a southern hospital. Over him was a quilt made of bits of calico and white squares, on which were written texts of Scripture. It was the gift of a northern woman whose son was in the army. The boy was seen to kiss over and over a bit of the calico, a crimson leaf with a dark background. They thought his mind wandered.

After a little he asked: “Where did the quilt come from?”

“It was sent by a good woman with a note pinned to it.”

At his request, they brought the note. His hand trembled and his cheek grew white as he saw the writing, “Read it slowly, please,” he said, “it is from my mother; that bit of calico was part of her dress.” When they finished he pointed to the text: “I have sinned, and am no more worthy.”

They read the parable of the prodigal son to him. A few days afterward, he said: “I was a great way off, but God met me, had compassion on me, and His love fills me with peace.”

-- New York Observer

________

Source: Signs of the Times, Copyright (c) October 22, 1896, Pacific Press, http://www.signstimes.com

When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also. — 2 Timothy 1:5.

In Eunice we have an example of a faithful mother; and what an unspeakable blessing to thousands has the devout and modest home life of that simple-minded woman been. A large proportion of all Christians may trace their first impressions to godly mothers. Of the history of Eunice little is recorded, except that she also was the child of a devout mother. Who knows, patient Christian mother, but that the little boy that sits at your knee is being educated by you for some service on the grandest scale? — J. D.

Be ours the bliss, in wisdom’s way

to guide the feet of youth,

And show the mind Which went astray,

the Way, the Life, the Truth.

The baby gorilla was born in the zoo. Her mother, Lulu, could not produce enough milk to adequately feed her, so the zoo keepers stepped in. They worked in shifts to hold the two- month-old ape in their arms around the clock, imitating the way real gorilla mothers take care of their young. The baby thrived and grew to be an exceptionally loving and gentle creature. The keepers named her Binti Jua, which means “daughter of sunshine” in Swahili.

Since Binti Jua was born in captivity, she was content with the life of a zoo gorilla, climbing the trees in her enclosure and playing happily with the other gorillas.

There was an old male gorilla living at the zoo, a large silverback, who had never shown any interest in fathering any offspring. Something about Binti Jua appealed to the elder ape and when Binti was six, she became pregnant.

The zoo keepers were concerned that because the young gorilla hadn’t had any maternal role models, she might not be fully prepared to mother her own young. So they gave her lessons. They used a stuffed animal as a baby substitute and taught her to put the “baby” to her breast and to hold the “baby” constantly, the way gorillas do in the wild.

She was a good student and when her daughter, Koola, was born, Binti Jua was the perfect mom. This combination of natural motherliness and her comfort with humans would later make her an internationally celebrated heroine.

One day, when Koola was about a year-and-a-half-old, Binti Jua was in her outdoor enclosure, holding and grooming her baby as usual. The zoo visitors were all enjoying the sight of the gorillas, when suddenly a little three-year-old boy who had been playing along the barrier of the enclosure toppled over the edge and fell over twenty feet to the concrete floor below.

There was a sickening thud, and the little boy’s hysterical mother began screaming for help.

Immediately, Binti Jua, still holding Koola, made her way over to the unconscious child. The watching crowd gasped in horror. Unconsciously, people tend to associate gorillas with the movie monster King Kong. What would the huge ape do to the little boy?

First the mother gorilla lifted the boy’s arms, as if checking for signs of life. Then, gently, she picked him up and held him tenderly to her chest. Rocking him softly as she walked, she carried him over to the door the zoo keepers always used to enter and exit the enclosure. When another larger female gorilla approached her, Binti Jua made a guttural sound, warning the other gorilla to stay away. By this time, the door was open and the keepers were there with the paramedics, who had been called to rescue the injured boy. The gorilla carefully placed the boy on the floor in front of the door, and the paramedics whisked the child away. When the door closed again, Binti Jua calmly walked back to her tree and began grooming her own baby once more.

The people watching were stunned. The event would have been dramatic enough without the role of the heroine being filled by a gorilla. And Binti Jua was the best type of heroine, not caring for either fame or reward.

The boy recovered without any lasting harm resulting from his adventure. And the world was moved by Binti Jua’s good deed; letters and gifts came pouring in for her from all over the world. She even received a medal from the American Legion and an honorary membership in a California PTA.

Acting from her heart, Binti Jua did what any mother would do: She protected and helped a child. But this gorilla didn’t care that the child was of another species. She showed the qualities we humans hold most dear – love and compassion for all.

At the end of the story, the beginning makes sense!

On September 27 at 11:50 a.m., Yvonne Trimble’s mother, Yvette Melchionne passed peacefully to her eternal reward. Two months prior, Yvette had suffered a debilitating stroke that rendered her immobile and speechless. On the day of her passing, she returned from lunch and silently slipped away, still in her wheelchair.

As a young wife, Yvette bore five children in a five-year period; then fell to a postpartum depression with psychotic features. Treatment helped her function but her reasoning and affections remained marred. When Yvonne was nine and her youngest sibling just four, Yvette abandoned her husband and children. For the remainder of their childhood, the family did not experience the love or nurturing help of a mom.

In 1981, the Trimbles stopped to see Yvette in Florida while on our way to catch a plane to Haiti where they were missionaries. When her Mom sent her to get something from the bedroom, Yvonne saw a black magic idol on Yvette’s dresser. Her mother was practicing witchcraft and though Yvonne wept, prayed and witnessed to her; it seemed her pleas fell to the ground. That was the last time Yvonne saw her mother -- until February 2013!

In 2004 their half-brother called to say that he and Mom had been living in their van for the past six years and now that the van was impounded, would they take care of Mom? The once-abused and abandoned siblings refused. Then he too left her, and Yvette lived in homeless shelters and on the streets until someone placed her in a psychiatric nursing home in 2012.

Yvonne’s father Tony had raised five children alone, sacrificially providing for them. Yvonne says, “I am who I am today because of my Father; I never saw him drunk or with another woman. The Marine motto ‘Semper Fi’ was tattooed on his arm; it was who he was ‘Always Faithful’ to God and his family.” For many years he spent Christmases in Haiti and he lived with the Trimbles for eighteen months before he entered a nursing home. Tony passed in his sleep on January 31, 2013. In San Francisco, Yvonne told her sister, “Find Mom! When you call to report Dad’s passing to Social Security, find out where her checks are going.”

Weeks later Yvette was located in a Seattle nursing home with a Christian tract in her purse and wearing a crucifix. Questioned about her faith, she said she knew Him! Yvonne flew ten hours from Port au Prince to Seattle to spend twelve hours with her Mom; the woman for whom she had wept now spoke healing words of motherly love for the first time. Today Yvonne grieves “but not as others do”, for the Mom she did not have on earth she will have for eternity!

Yvette will be laid to rest beside Yvonne’s dad Tony. The Trimbles are certain they will see her again! This miracle of forgiveness and restoration is a testimony of God’s sovereign power and love.

======================

Version used in sermon:

Yvonne Trimble is a Christian missionary in Haiti. On September 27 last year, Yvonne Trimble’s mother died. As a young wife, this woman gave birth to five children in a five-year period. She then had a postpartum depression with psychotic features.

Treatment helped her function but her reasoning and affections remained marred. When Yvonne was nine and her sister just four, their mother abandoned her husband and children. For the remainder of their childhood, the family did not experience the love or nurturing help of a mom.

Yvonne’s father Tony raised five children alone, sacrificially providing for them. Yvonne says, “I am who I am today because of my Father; I never saw him drunk or with another woman. The Marine motto ‘Semper Fi’ was tattooed on his arm; it was who he was, ‘Always Faithful’ to God and his family.” He lived with Yvonne the last 18 months of his life, then died after entering a nursing home.

His death put something in Yvonne’s heart. She told her sister, “Find Mom! When you call to report Dad’s death to Social Security, find out where her checks are going.”

They had last seen her 30 years ago. The mother had idols in her apartment and practiced witchcraft. Her Christian daughters tried to witness to her but she rejected them.

Then 10 years ago they heard from a half-brother that their mother had been living in a van for the past six years. The van was impounded and they discussed who would take her in. The children who had once been abandoned by this woman refused to help her. They heard she lived in homeless shelters and on the streets until someone placed her in a psychiatric nursing home in 2012.

Then their father died. It took just a few weeks to locate their mother in a Seattle nursing home. Yvonne’s sister said their mother had a Christian tract in her purse and was wearing a crucifix. Questioned about her faith, she said she knew Jesus. Yvonne flew ten hours from Haiti to Seattle to spend 12 hours with her Mom. For the first time her mother spoke to her in a loving way.

Their mother was laid to rest beside their father. They grieve, but they know where their mother is, and they praise God for the miracle of forgiveness and reconciliation.

In December 2002, 150 mostly Christian inmates from three Thai prisons united in a choir to perform at Bangkok's Thai Cultural Center in honor of the 75th birthday of the king of Thailand. During the occasion, which received national press coverage, retired Southern Baptist missionaries Jack and Glad Martin were honored for nearly 30 years of prison ministry by Purachai Piumsombun, Thailand's minister of justice.

At the end of the evening, a young prisoner stepped forward from the choir and told his story with a shaky voice. He had promised his mother early on in life that he would make something of himself, perhaps become a policeman to help protect society. But bad friends led him into drug use, which in turn led to addiction and drug dealing.

One day he snatched his mother's purse to get money, knocking her down and breaking her arm. He was arrested the same day -- and later sentenced to six years in prison for selling drugs. Later, he heard about the God who was being preached by the Christian prison ministry team. He timidly asked if he could join the men's choir and found that they worshiped this same God. Eventually he gave his life to Christ. He wrote his mother and asked her forgiveness for all the sorrow he had caused her.

As he spoke that evening at the concert, an older woman emerged from the far end of the stage and walked slowly toward him. She gently touched his shoulder. He turned, and in a sudden burst of sorrow fell at her feet, clasping her ankles and begging, “Mom, oh Mom, can you forgive me?” They were led off the stage in joyful reunion.

Later, the justice minister approached the young man and asked, “Son, how much longer do you have to serve on your sentence?” He replied, “A year and a half, sir.” The minister responded: “No, you don't. I will pardon you within the month. You have served your time and I see true repentance. You aren't the kind that we want to keep behind bars!”

The young man was released in January 2003.

*

[The original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickId #16351]

Mrs. Smith's three sons left home, went out on their own and prospered. Getting back together, they discussed the gifts they were able to give their elderly mother.

The first said, "I built a big house for our mother."

The second said, "I sent her a Mercedes with a driver."

The third smiled and said, "I've got you, both beat. You know how Mom enjoys the Bible, and you know she can't see very well. I sent her a brown parrot that can recite the entire Bible. It took 20 monks in a monastery 12 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $100,000.00 a year for 10 years, but it was worth it. Mom just has to name the chapter and verse, and the parrot will recite it."

Soon thereafter, Mom sent out her letters of thanks:

"Milton," she wrote the first son, "The house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house."

"Gerald," she wrote to another, "I am too old to travel. I stay home all the time, so I never use the Mercedes. And the driver is so rude!"

"Dearest Donald," she wrote to her third son, "You were the only son to have the good sense to know what your mother likes. That chicken was delicious!"

“Do you like my dress?” she asked of a passing stranger. “My mommy made it just for me.” She said with a tear in her eye.

“Well, I think it’s very pretty, so tell me little one, why are you crying?” With a quiver in her voice the little girl answered.

“After Mommy made me this dress, she had to go away.”

“Well, now,” said the lady, “with a little girl like you waiting for her, I’m sure she’ll be right back.”

“No ma’am, you don’t understand,” said the child through her tears, “my Daddy said that she’s up in heaven now with Grandfather.”

Finally the woman realized what the child meant, and why she was crying.

Kneeling down she gently cradled the child in her arms and together they cried for the mommy that was gone. Then suddenly the little girl did something that the woman thought was a bit strange.

She stopped crying, stepped back from the woman and began to sing.

She sang so softly that it was almost a whisper. It was the sweetest sound the woman had ever heard, almost like the song of a very small bird.

After the child stopped singing she explained to the lady, “My mommy used to sing that song to me before she went away, and she made me promise to sing it whenever I started crying and it would make me stop.” “See,” she exclaimed, “it did, and now my eyes are dry!”

As the woman turned to go, the little girl grabbed her sleeve, “Lady, can you stay just a minute? I want to show you something.”

“Of course,” she answered, “what do you want me to see?”

Pointing to a spot on her dress, she said, “Right here is where my Mommy kissed my dress, and here,” pointing to another spot, “and here is another kiss, and here, and here,”

“Mommy said that she put all those kisses on my dress so that I would have her kisses for every boo-boo that made me cry.”

Then the lady realized that she wasn’t just looking at a dress, no, she was looking at a Mother who knew that she was going away and would not be there to kiss away the hurts that she knew her daughter would get.

So she took all the love she had for her beautiful little girl and put them into this dress, that her child now so proudly wore.

She no longer saw a little girl in a simple dress, she saw a child wrapped in her Mother’s love.

A weary mother returned from the store,

Lugging groceries through the kitchen door,

Awaiting her arrival was her 8 year son,

Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.

“While I was out playing and Dad was on call,

T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!

It’s on the new paper you just hung in the den.

I told him you’d be mad at having to do it again.”

She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,

“Where is your little brother right now!”

She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,

She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.

She called his full name as she entered his room.

He trembled with fear — he knew that meant doom!

For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved

About the expensive wallpaper that she had saved.

Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,

She condemned his actions and total lack of care.

The more she scolded, the madder she got,

Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!

She headed for the den to confirm her fears.

When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.

The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.

It said, “I love Mommy,” surrounded by a heart.

Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,

With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.

A reminder to her, and indeed to us all.

Take time to read the handwriting on the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t marry the person you can live with, marry the person you can’t live without.”

Jerry Evers relived a nightmare every time he turned on his television in January and saw the story that stunned a nation and topped all the news reports -- the drowning of two children by their own mother.

The story of Susan Smith in South Carolina was frighteningly similar to a tragedy that has dominated his own life since New Year's Day 1980 when Evers' wife murdered their three children by drowning.

As the Smith story unfolded, Evers says he didn't see Susan Smith in the news reports; he saw his first wife. He didn't see the Smith children; he saw his own. The pictures of grief and shock were only too familiar to him and his family.

As painful as it was to watch, it provided a way for him to put to rest demons that had haunted him for years. Since the days when the death of his own children dominated the news in central Florida, he has agonized over the question that everyone seems to have asked since Susan Smith was arrested: How could a mother murder her own children?

No one, Evers says bluntly, will ever be able to answer that question. As expected, he has been pursued by the media and offered payment to tell his story. But he chose carefully the outlet for sharing his story saying, "It is one of God's grace and love and -- at last -- forgiveness." He chose to tell his story through an article in the November 1995 issue of "Home Life," a magazine for parents published by the Baptist Sunday School Board.

In 1979 Jerry and Dianne Evers were the young parents of three daughters -- four-year-old twins Sherrie and Carrie and two-year-old Mandy. Living in a fishing camp in one side of a duplex shared with her parents, they struggled, as they had since they were married when he was 17 and she was 16.

Mental health problems had plagued Dianne since 1973. When they resurfaced, she made weekly visits to a doctor in Orlando. However, she stopped the sessions at a time when she was having delusions of being the Virgin Mary and hearing voices she said were telling her what to do.

In October, when his wife's behavior became blatantly bizarre and erratic, Jerry pleaded with doctors to commit her to a state hospital, but they determined she should not be institutionalized and would be better off at home.

On New Year's Day, after telling relatives she was going to bathe the children, Dianne methodically drowned them one by one in a tub of water. Then she walked into the living room and told her uncle: "Call the sheriff. I've drowned the three babies. They're better off now because they're in heaven." While her uncle fought in vain to revive the children, another relative struggled to restrain Dianne, who kept trying to put them back in the water.

Evers remembers asking his former wife, "Why, why, why?" did she do it.

Her response was irrational. "She told me because I couldn't afford to take care of them and they were going through pure hell."

A neighbor at the fishing camp remembers Evers as a hard-working $192-a-week truck driver and a doting father who took the kids everywhere. Still, for many years, Dianne's words haunted him.

"She said she did it out of hatred for me," he says tearfully, in a barely audible voice.

Dianne was sent to the Florida state mental hospital in Chattahoochee where she remained under evaluation for almost a year until December 1980, when she was declared competent to stand trial.

In the February 1981 trial, she confessed her guilt and entered a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity. After a three-hour nonjury trial, the judge found her innocent and ordered she be returned to the hospital in Chattahoochee, where she has spent the last 14 years. She has tried to commit suicide at least four times, including one case when she asked a fellow inmate to drown her.

After the trial, Evers drifted, feeling his life had no meaning. He went from job to job. Dianne divorced him in 1982, and he enrolled in Trinity Baptist College in Jacksonville, Fla.

"That," says the 38-year-old Evers who accepted Christ as his Savior at age 22, "was my salvation."

At Trinity, he found grace but not peace. There were still too many unanswered questions. Evers agonized almost daily, trying to bring meaning to the tragedy: Why? Why me? and Could I have done more to prevent what happened?

He served on church staffs for two years and gave his testimony everywhere. Still, he sought forgiveness, but it eluded him; he couldn't forgive his wife and he couldn't let go of the blame and forgive himself. He wandered, still numbed, just existing.

Evers admits he lived in a sort of limbo until October 1987, when he met Dorrie Jacobs at a gospel concert for single adults in Baxley, Ga.

"It was love at first sight for both of us," Evers says with a smile. They were married two months later. Then came Jessica, now 6; Jerry Jr. "Bubba", 4; and Rebecca, 2.

"We've been happy ever since," Evers says, beaming while he describes life with his new family. "People ask me how I got to where I am from where I was, and I tell them I couldn't. It was God's grace. Only God's grace.

"God has blessed me so much, and all I have to do to know how blessed I am is to look around me at Dorrie and my kids."

But looking at his beautiful children can also strike fear in Evers, because of their strong resemblance to the children he lost.

"I was fearful for my new family for a long time, especially for my kids," says Evers. "The last time I talked with Dianne was at her trial in 1981, and she said then she would make me pay."

His former wife wrote a chilling letter to a Florida judge in 1989, asking to be released: "The court made a crucial mistake," she wrote. "I confess that I was not mentally ill before, during or after the offense." In the letter she also stated she knew she could not be retried because of the double jeopardy law.

In January 1992, after she was diagnosed as schizophrenic and housed in a Florida mental hospital for 12 years, a court ruled she could be moved to a halfway house. From there, she began petitioning regularly for her release.

"Can you believe that?" Jerry exclaimed, looking at the 1989 letter. "I was terrified for both myself and my family."

During the years he drifted, Evers was also angry at his wife, who confessed to the killings from the beginning, spent only two days in jail.

"It's wrong," he said tearfully. "She has to pay her debt."

The loss of his children took the heart out of Evers, and he felt it was his mission to help other abused children. He deplored the insanity plea and fought his wife's release when her hearings came up every six months. He founded Concerned Citizens' Foundation, a victims' rights group, and lobbied to have the insanity plea defense modified.

Eventually he began rebuilding his life through what he calls his "ministry in law enforcement." He has worked for police departments in Nicholls, Ricon and Vidalia, Ga., as well as several sheriff's departments. Since March, he has been the chief of police of the one-man force in Canon in northeast Georgia.

"Law enforcement is definitely a ministry I was called to," says Evers, whose life has finally come together so completely that he wears a chief's badge on his belt when he's speaking in churches, and he carries a Bible on the front seat of his squad car when he's on patrol.

His testimony to church and civic groups alike has always been filled with the beauty and comfort of God's grace. Yet he still could not forgive Dianne or himself. He worked hard to put the past behind and to turn the pain into something positive. But the fight became increasingly difficult, and Dianne's hearing in November lasted one hour longer than her trial in 1981.

"That's when I began asking God to deliver me," says Evers. "He had to."

"We each have to find it in our hearts to forgive because that's what the Bible teaches us. I've got such peace about me now; the burden has finally rolled away."

Then came the tragic drowning of two little boys in South Carolina.

Seeing the Smith case unfold, Evers realized he had been too traumatized in 1980 to feel anything. Watching the events in South Carolina on television was like being there and reliving the tragedy he had experienced but was too numb to feel. It was almost too painful to watch, but as he watched he began to feel healing and to forgive himself.

Then he made a conscious effort to forgive his ex-wife. God's grace, which had been so real and brought him through such a tragedy, flooded him.

"I am still for the death penalty. I believe if you take a life, your life is forfeited. I noticed David Smith made some statements that were almost identical to those I made. I can truly say I know what he means when he says his wife took something away from him that he will never get over. I feel especially sorry for David Smith, and I understand his writing the book he has been criticized for, because it's therapeutic. I've tried to make myself available to David if he needs me and wants to talk."

Today, Evers understands with certainty God's grace and his love and, now finally, his forgiveness.

The exact date this happened was Jan. 17, 1995. He remembers that even more clearly than he remembers New Year's Day 1980.

The act of forgiveness has not eradicated the painful memories, but it has freed him to move beyond the nightmare of 1980.

--------------------

Mich Livingston is a free-lance writer from Buford, Ga. This article was reprinted with permission from the November issue of Home Life magazine.

Copyright (c) 1995 Baptist Press

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Less than a year after my wife's funeral I was confronted with the most terrible realities of being a widower with five children.

Notes from school.

Field trip permission slips, PTA election ballots, Troll Book order forms, sports sign-ups, medical forms, and innumerable academic progress reports - an onslaught of paperwork courtesy of the educational bureaucracy.

This "literature" has to be read and signed, or placed at the bottom of the birdcage. Regardless of its destination it must be dealt with on a daily basis.

One day, eight-year-old Rachel was helping me complete five (count 'em, five) emergency treatment forms for school. She would fill in the generic information (name, address, phone number), and I would add the rest (insurance numbers, doctor's name, date, and signature). After signing the forms, I checked them for accuracy. It was then that I noticed on each card, in the slot beside Mother's Business Phone, Rachel had written "1-800-HEAVEN."

________________

Rob Loughran from Chicken Soup for the Single's Soul by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Jennifer Read Hawthorne and Marci Shimoff, copyright 1999 Canfield and Hansen

In the late 4th century a woman named MONICA lived in a small North African village with her family. On Nov. 13, 354, she gave birth to a son -- bright & intelligent; tried hard to raise him as a Christian, but it was difficult. Her husband was not a Christian and the boy grew up surrounded by pagan influences. His father had no respect for Christian faith and was unfaithful to Monica. Their son was exposed to stories about pagan gods -- notorious for their lust and violence.

Despite Monica's best efforts, her son did not become a Christian. Like his father he lived a life of sexual permissiveness. He left the small village of his birth, moved to Carthage, then Rome. He sampled various pagan philosophies and was seemingly lost to Christian faith. That young man was AUGUSTINE -- one of greatest and most influential Christians of all time! What turned him around? In his autobiography "Confessions" he says it was genuine faith and constant love.

He also tells of Monica's grief and despair that her son would ever come to faith. Many parents have felt their situation as hopeless as Monica's.

Media pundits and many on the talk-show circuit are outraged with the announcement this week of the largest long-term study of child care in U.S. history. Anti-day care folks are excited, because the study supports their view. The pro-day care crowd, however, are on the warpath, because the study says their programs have failed.

Unfortunately for those trying to claim bias, this research wasn't conducted by conservatives; it's from the National Institute on Child Health and Human Development of the National Institutes of Health. They followed 1,100 children in ten cities and in many settings: relatives, nannies, large day care centers, preschools, and more, over a ten-year period.

The results? There's a direct correlation between the amount of time spent in child care and undesirable traits, like aggression, defiance, and disobedience. Dr. Jay Belsky, a principal investigator for the study, reports that "as time goes up, so do behavior problems. Children who spent over thirty hours a week in child care are more demanding, more non-compliant, and they are more aggressive." They scored higher on "cruelty," "bullying," and "meanness," as well as "talking too much."

This is especially sobering when we're hearing so much these days about bullying in the schools, with violence and persecution of certain students. There are many, like Senator Hillary Clinton and modern-day disciples of the Enlightenment thinker Jean Jacque Rousseau (who thought all kids should be raised by the state), who have claimed that, with "quality" child care and more taxpayer dollars, such problems would be solved. Well, the new study puts the lie to that idea.

It shows that children who spend most of their time in child care are three times as likely to exhibit behavior problems in kindergarten as those cared for primarily by their mothers. It holds true regardless of the type or quality of care, family socio-economic status, or even if the mothers themselves were the paid care givers.

Despite criticism and denials, once again common sense wins out. Have you ever looked into the face of an infant when its mother comes into view? He or she lights up whenever that beloved person comes near. Now, Daddy and others are special, but mothers they adore.

When this natural relationship doesn't exist, children develop an underlying anger. At what, they may not know, but the bitterness they feel comes out later in behavior problems, and in the sense that something is wrong.

Researchers explored many possible causes for these results: overworked parents, poorly trained day care workers, and more. But they neglected the most important reason. God put it into the heart of mothers and children to spend their hours together as much as possible.

Now, let me be quick to say that there are some parents (like single moms) who have no other choice than day care. Many single moms, in my eyes, are heroines for the way in which they handle difficult situations. But even as they do it, we must not fail to grasp what we know to be true and what this new study affirms: that where there is a choice, moms need to spend quality and quantity time with their kids. There is simply no substitute for the mother-child bond.

As Christians, we know why. It's a relationship designed by God, and nothing -- nothing -- can replace it.

_____________________

For further reference:

Stolberg, Sheryl Gay. "Link Found Between Behavioral Problems and Time in Child Care." New York Times Online, 19 April 2001.

_____________________

Copyright (c) 1999 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint with Chuck Colson" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

*

A weary mother returned from the store,

Lugging groceries through the kitchen door,

Awaiting her arrival was her 8 year son,

Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.

“While I was out playing and Dad was on call,

T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!

It’s on the new paper you just hung in the den.

I told him you’d be mad at having to do it again.”

She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,

“Where is your little brother right now!”

She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,

She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.

She called his full name as she entered his room.

He trembled with fear — he knew that meant doom!

For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved

About the expensive wallpaper that she had saved.

Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,

She condemned his actions and total lack of care.

The more she scolded, the madder she got,

Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!

She headed for the den to confirm her fears.

When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.

The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.

It said, “I love Mommy,” surrounded by a heart.

Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,

With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.

A reminder to her, and indeed to us all.

Take time to read the handwriting on the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t marry the person you can live with, marry the person you can’t live without.”

”Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. They will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck” — (Proverbs 1:8-9, NIV).

A word for mothers (and fathers): “We raise not the children we want, but the children that we the parents are” … therefore:

One of the greatest things that we, as parents (fathers as well as mothers), can do for our children, after showing them the way to Jesus, is to be real, to be authentic and to become (and model by our example) the persons that God wants us to be and pray that our children will want the same for themselves. That is, that they will want to be what God wants them to be — and not what we want them to be or do!

“I took a piece of plastic clay

And idly fashioned it one day;

And as my fingers pressed it still,

It moved and yielded at my will.

I came again when days were past,

The form I gave it still it bore,

And as my fingers pressed it still,

I could change that form no more.

I took a piece of living clay,

And gently formed it day by day,

And molded with my power and art,

A young child’s soft and yielding heart.

I came again when days were gone;

It was a man I looked upon,

He still that early impress bore,

And I could change it never more.

— Author Unknown

Suggested prayer: “Dear God, please help to become the person you envisioned for me to be so that I will be an example for my children, my loved ones, my friends and all to see God’s love shining through me. Gratefully in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

There's nothing secular elites enjoy more than calling Christians "hypocrites." They delight in pointing fingers at Christians whose conduct doesn't quite measure up to what they profess to believe.

Well, recently the tables were turned when a well-known secularist was caught failing to live up to HIS beliefs -- and thank God for that.

Peter Singer is a professor of ethics at Princeton, and he's the quintessential moral utilitarian. Singer believes that an action's morality cannot be judged by any transcendent standard. Instead, he suggests we ask whether a particular action will increase the sum total of happiness in the world.

For example, as George Will commented about Singer, "Should one spend a sum to ease the suffering of a family member or send the same sum to ease the sufferings of 10 Sudanese?" Singer's answer would be to send the money to Sudan, because doing so would increase the world's total amount of happiness. He also argues for allowing parents to kill their handicapped newborns, and favors euthanasia for the sick and the elderly -- people who can no longer enjoy their lives and who create a burden on others.

But Singer's beliefs were put to the test when his own mother became sick with Alzheimer's. You will be relieved to know that, instead of starving his mother to death and thus increasing the world's supply of happiness, Singer is behaving hypocritically. He spends thousands of dollars providing his mother with nursing home care.

Singer sheepishly acknowledges the hypocrisy of his actions. "It's not the best use you could make of my money, that's true," he admits. But he then rationalizes his inconsistency: "It does provide employment for a number of people who find something worthwhile in what they're doing," he says.

Hogwash. A better explanation is that Peter Singer the son trumps Peter Singer the philosopher.

Christians should rejoice at Singer's inconsistency, and not only because taking care of his mother is the right thing to do. The case demonstrates how unworkable secular humanist ideas about human life really are.

It's one thing to engage in intellectual parlor games within the safe confines of the academy. In that setting, denying the sanctity of human life or the existence of moral absolutes has little, if any, impact on people's lives.

But in the real world, it means the difference between life and death. The last thing people like Singer want is for people to act in accordance with their principles when it affects someone they care about.

The truth of any worldview is authenticated by how well it depicts reality. By doing the right thing by his mother, Singer himself has demonstrated that his philosophy does not produce a rational and just society. He would be hard pressed to cite a single example of a healthy, vibrant society that believes that there isn't anything special about human life. As Singer himself demonstrates, this belief produces societies that no one would want to live in -- not even him.

In short, Singer's worldview flunks the reality test.

So if you come across someone who tells you there's nothing special about human life, ask him which Peter Singer they hope their kids emulate when they're old and frail: Peter Singer the avant garde philosopher, or Peter Singer the hypocrite.

The one who admits, "It is different when it's your mother."

___________________________

Copyright (c) 1999 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint with Chuck Colson" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

*

William G. Boykin is not just big and strong, but to hear him speak, he is a man with a big, strong faith in God.

Boykin, commanding general of the U.S. Army's John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School in Fort Bragg, N.C., heads Special Forces, including Delta Force. That unit of soldiers goes into situations that most civilians can't even imagine. And they go in as warriors.

"We don't head into situations to keep the peace. We go in to win. I'm a warrior, not a peacekeeper," he said. "Delta Force goes in, strikes quick and gets out. Often it is a hostage situation."

Boykin said his Christian faith has sustained him and guided him throughout his military career.

"My mother raised me as a Christian. She is a true prayer warrior," he said. "Whenever I have a big decision to make, I call her and get her to pray."

Thirteen years ago when he was named to lead the Special Forces group, Boykins said, "I knew this would be a tremendous challenge, so you know what I immediately did ... I called my mother."

Boykin was one of the original officers in Delta Force. This group of soldiers has gone into war zones in Iran, Grenada, Panama, Somalia and other places of conflict. The events of their mission in Somalia have been dramatized in the motion picture, "Black Hawk Down."

Before every mission, Boykin said he prays with his men. "I always pray for God's blessing on these warriors, for his protective hand around them. Then we sing 'God Bless America.' God has been faithful and has held us in his hands."

Boykin told the FAITH participants that the way they are trained is like the concept of Special Forces training -- one person trains 100, who in turn can train 10,000. "It's a forced multiplier training. With you, with one prayer, you can call down 10,000 people. With us, with one A-team and a group of 5,000 untrained Northern Alliance warriors with heart, we can defeat the Taliban."

Of the current war on terrorism, Boykin said, "We have seen a godly man in the White House declare war on terrorism. We need warriors to fight and win this battle. I'm not just talking about our men and women in uniform. I'm talking about all of you in the sanctuary.

"Bin Laden is not the enemy. No mortal is the enemy. It's the enemy you can't see. It's a war against the forces of darkness. The battle won't be won with guns. It will be won on our knees."

He said, "Don't let go of this country. Stay on your knees and don't ever give up."

Nine-year-old Sierra still gets a little nervous if her mom isn’t home on time. But these days mom is never more than a cell phone call away.

“I always pick up when she calls,” Amanda Ortiz says. “I reassure her that we don’t live the way we used to anymore and she doesn’t have to worry.”

Ortiz is in the process of allowing God to rebuild her life -- a life that went terribly wrong when left under her control.

In her early 20s, Ortiz had pulled herself together. Drug addiction, abuse and dysfunction dominated her teen years and she did not want that for her children.

“I felt I had my life in control. I was a dedicated wife and mother and even considered myself a Christian,” she says. “Yet inwardly, I found myself on a trip downward, heading back for a breakdown of my self-control.”

Ortiz desperately wanted to be there for Sierra and her son Jordan. She vowed never to be like her own mom -- a drug addict -- who lost her children to Child Protective Services when Ortiz was only 3.

Yet in mid-2007 Ortiz relapsed into addiction; her husband left with Sierra and Jordan; and she was in jail -- again -- for stealing money to support her habit. “I completely lost myself,” she says. “I hit rock bottom and lost everything that had meaning in my life.”

She was all alone -- or so she thought -- until the jail’s routine health evaluation revealed she was carrying a little life inside her.

“I was so scared,” Ortiz recounts. “I was afraid of what I had done to my baby by using drugs while I was pregnant. I was afraid of giving birth to her in jail and of not being able to provide for her when I got out.”

Ortiz needed a change. Not just a change in behavior or circumstances, but a heart change. She found that change through a Bible study called “Road to Freedom.”

“I finally learned the meaning of true repentance and surrender,” she says. “Now I choose to keep Christ before anything and in every choice and decision I make in my life. I know without Him I’m lost.”

God is rebuilding Ortiz’s life. “I cannot count the blessings God has given since I truly gave my heart to Him,” she says.

Her sentence was reduced so that she was out of jail when baby Eliana was born on Dec. 11, 2008. God provided a loving Christian family to take her in when she had no home of her own.

And then Ortiz met Lorna Fike, a Mission Service Corps missionary working with the Austin (Texas) Pregnancy Resource Center. “I had no clothes and no medical care when I got out of jail,” Ortiz says. “The center helped with material goods, Medicaid problems and spiritual encouragement. They became family to me.”

Most important, God has restored Ortiz’s relationship with her children.

“I’m able to show them the love and attention I couldn’t before,” she says. “And I’m very careful what I teach them. It’s all about loving them and planting a solid foundation in their hearts.”

Things are still going well for Ortiz and her children. Little Eliana has celebrated her first birthday and is beginning to walk and talk. Sierra is an honor student at her elementary school and Ortiz was elated when she was recently awarded joint custody of Jordan.

“God has been so good to us,” she says. “Sometimes I worry about the future, but when I look back over all God has brought us through, I know he will carry us the rest of the way.”

The Austin Pregnancy Resource Center played a vital role in helping Ortiz.

The North American Mission Board partners with 270 pregnancy resource centers throughout the United States. Last year those centers received 156,292 visits from women in a crisis pregnancy. Whether it’s helping a woman choose life over abortion, helping a teen learn mothering skills or helping a troubled young mom make the transition from life in jail to new life in Christ, pregnancy care centers are there to provide hope and healing in the name of Jesus.

Because of the NAMB pregnancy centers, nearly 7,000 babies were saved from abortion in 2009. Additionally, more than 3,900 women accepted Christ as pregnancy center staff members shared the Gospel with them.

Some 6.3 million women face a crisis pregnancy in the United States each year, according to the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy. More than 1.3 million of those pregnancies end in abortion. Pregnancy resource centers exist nationwide to tell these women there is hope and a future for them and their babies in Jesus Christ.

________

Jami Becher is a writer for the North American Mission Board. This article is reprinted from the board’s On Mission magazine.