​Full of Grace and Truth - Mommas

I have a problem. How can I possibly do the mothers amongst us and the mothers remembered justice in the 1000 or so words allotted for this writing?

Honestly there is no way, no matter how many words I use or don’t use, that I can express the depth, the width and the breadth of the love of a mother for her children and the debt we all owe God for that gift.

Now before I go any farther, I know that there are mothers out there who fail their children on all accounts; and if you were a victim of such, I pray that you can forgive. Hold tight to Christ, who never leaves, and with the help of the Holy Spirit know that you are loved and forever will be.

​For right now though, in the short space that I have, I would like to talk about the only one-on-one reference I have, as a son, to mothers. That would be mine, Bobbie Jean Tharpe Rowell.

A few years ago I asked my little sister, Jane Mayer, to preach for me while Mary and I were on vacation. She did a fine job; but in the midst of her sermon, I understand that she declared that while we were both reared in the woods, I, in particular, was raised by wolves.

Now in defense of my momma, she was no wolf. She was a fox, and she knew it. My momma was a beautiful woman in a southern, country, beauty queen sort of way. Inside and out, she was stunning. Jet black hair from her native American roots set off the emerald green eyes that looked out from between a couple of high cheekbones on her exquisite face. Bobbie Jean was a picture of loveliness; but that picture, the beautiful work of art that was my mother, was painted on a piece of canvas that was stretched over a granite frame.

Momma was raised by my Granny and Grandpa Tharpe. A lovely couple to be sure; but in the raising of my mom, they took on unique roles, almost opposite of the norm for their day.  Being raised by my Granny, made momma tough and opinionated. Granny gave my momma a steel core that could not be moved. Conversely, being raised by Grandpa gave my momma the soft candy coating.

Grandpa was gentle, quiet and kind. I do believe that Momma learned her genteel southern belle ways from my Grandpa and maybe an aunt or two. She also learned from him a technique of changing her voice just a bit into a voice that brooked no argument and could frighten a child, namely me, down to the core. As gentle as Grandpa was with a flick of some switch in his throat, he had a tone that made even Granny sit up, shut up and pay attention.

​Well that beautiful couple, Granny and Grandpa Tharpe, raised the loving hand that rocked my cradle; and I often saw Granny and Grandpa in my momma, and now I often see my momma in me.

My mother imparted to me a core of common sense beliefs that cannot be shaken. I was also given a faith in Jesus Christ that is rock solid and immovable. A love of family that boarders on the obsessive and a love of country were gifts from her hands as well. Along with all of that, Mom handed down an appreciation for rugged individualism and a heart for those in need.

The things that my momma instilled in me while I was under her roof remain long after her passing. She inspired in me what she considered essential qualities, softly at times and not so softly at other times; but she was gonna get the job done one way or the other.

With that being said, there is one memory that rises to the top from time to time when I find myself distressed and momma crosses my mind. This particular memory, however, has nothing to do with lessons learned, only love displayed.

This old memory first visited me a few years ago when while watching television with Mary a commercial for Vicks Vapo Rub came on with a momma gently rubbing that vile stuff on her young son’s chest. While watching my eyes began to tear up as my mind drifted back some fifty five years or so to my mom looking down on a sick little boy while gently rubbing that same vile stuff on my chest and humming some nondescript tune. 

I remember feeling so much contentment at that moment, that I do believe some of it remains today. I was safe, I was loved, I was my momma’s little boy, and I was special. There is nothing like that feeling.

I believe that in mothers, God gave us the clearest picture of Himself to be found on earth.

John 1:14
14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.  NIV

Full of grace and truth.

That is a godly mom.

She breaks her own heart if she must to instill a belief in Christ Jesus in her children; and she empties her own heart for them, demonstrating in flesh and blood the love and grace that God Almighty offers. She reminds us that we are all loved. We are all safe, and we are all special in the eyes of she who bore us and He who created us.

Thank God for Mommas

Happy Mother’s Day!
​
Love, Pastor Tony

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