F is for FLOWERS

The shops, supermarkets and malls were filled to overflowing with flowers yesterday, many wrapped in colourful paper and all ready to be claimed by a new owner and to adorn somebody’s table today. And they didn’t come cheap, but nothing is too expensive if it can lighten up a life, especially if that someone happens to be your mother. For this is Mother’s Day, that special day when she is supposed not to have to lift a finger in preparing the dinner, can have breakfast in bed and be treated like a lady for a while before life returns to reality and she is knee deep in ironing and dishes all over again. Though I have found to my cost that if such luxuries are to be bestowed on the lady in question in our house, there is a good chance that the husband may have to be the motivator and the doer since the door’s of the boy’s bedrooms have still remained firmly shut and there is no evidence of life never mind preparing dinner. Still, there was a nice box of chocolates and some flowers taking up space on the sideboard last night so I guess they haven’t totally forgotten.And mothers do come to expect it on this day, though explaining to your wife that she is not your mother and is therefore not entitled to a gift or flowers from yours truly can be something of a minefield to walk across. Anyway, when did all this Mother’s Day lark start?

I don’t really recall it being a big issue twenty or thirty years ago and then you would probably have struggled to find a bunch of flowers to buy except in a florist’s shop and then at a ridiculous price, because nobody else was selling them. But now Mother’s Day has almost become like Mother’s birthday or Mother’s Christmas Day with the whole event not stopping at flowers and may often also include chocolates, an ornament, a luxury weekend away in a hotel, a CD, DVD, a book and for many, a Mother’s Day lunch in a restaurant.However I suppose it’s a small price to pay when you consider all the things that most mothers do for their children and their husbands and also remember that there is a whole host of things that they have done for us that nobody knows anything about. Yes we can all remember the times they slaved over a hot stove, tidied up the dinner table, washed our dirty socks and unmentionables, swept the floor, ironed our school uniforms and white shirts and even gave us a hug when we weren’t expecting it. But there were months on end when they cared for us even before we were born, when they had to endure discomfort and worry about the birth, when they had to feed, change and bath us, when they sang songs to tempt us to sleep, when they told us stories and listened to our little worries, when they brought us to school and sat at home with tears in their eyes at the thought of their little one growing up and wondering if they had settled OK. When they saw us struggle with exams and helped us with our revision and felt for us as we fell in and out of love. When they watched us leave for university and knew that we would probably never be at home permanently again. When they saw us get engaged and then marry and knew that it was time to let go of the little child that they had fed, cuddled, cried over and thought and worried about every day they left the house. And still, no matter what happened we knew they would always be our mothers and nothing would change and they’d still be interested in every aspect of our lives and worry about us every day.

Mum has gone home just over two years ago now, but she’s still my mum and I still remember the sacrifices she made so that I could be where I am today. The trouble is, I don’t know the half of it for I know there were days when she laughed with me, cried for me, worried about me and was proud of me but I’m sure there were others when I saddened her, disappointed her, maybe even made her angry and even went against her advice but she never showed it. Instead she just continued to love me.There are several pots of colourful flowers on her grave today and in the short time I was able to spend there this morning, I thanked God for her and for all the other mothers whose sacrifice often goes unnoticed but whose love for their children is unconditional. So I guess that flowers can only ever be a small token of thanks to them, for all they have done. I wonder how Jesus’ mother felt as she watched Him make the ultimate sacrifice on the cross, the boy she had nurtured, loved, worried about and reared and whom she knew would some day pay the ultimate price, yet even as He hung there dying, He remembered his mother and made sure that someone would look after her. And that was an indication of what He knew His mother had done for Him throughout His short life. But He also used flowers to illustrate how we should depend on Him when He said 'See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?' Maybe God is waiting for you to bloom!