Significance Doesn’t Have to be in Headlines

Understandably, most people have a fascination with bigness and fame. We think that doing something of ultimate importance and significance depends on some kind of public recognition. Sometimes the most important things done are done secretly or anonymously. When I think about this, it rings so true in my life and it reminds me of my mother. My sister and I affectionately refer to her as the “Rock!” My mother is now 79 and very sick with a rare brain disease. She even says now, “The rock is crumbling!”

I remember a conversation she and I had several years ago after my aunt’s funeral. The eulogy was so beautiful and those who spoke shared about the hundreds of people my aunt’s life had touched as a school teacher. On the way home my mom said to me, “I don’t think anyone would say those things about me.” It literally broke my heart. I couldn’t believe that my mother would have any of those thoughts?!

You see my mother has been one of the biggest influences in my life. She never worked outside our home but inside the home she worked as hard as anyone I have ever known. The countless lessons she has taught me and the servant’s heart that she has lived has pretty much shaped my life! She will never be a “rock star” to most people, but her quiet, serving life has been the paint on the canvas of my life for decades.

Shortly after my mother became ill, my sister and I started to share the responsibility of going through my parents’ mail daily and paying the bills. Never could I have imagined what I would learn from my mother in this stage of my life.

One day I was opening her mail and I opened a letter from someone in our past who was just a few years older than me. It was a letter from a girl whose name is Judy. Judy is the oldest daughter of a man who worked for my father when I was growing up. He was a bull dozer operator. Judy’s father was uneducated and very poor. He had a wife and 4 children. I can remember the night my parents got a call that Judy’s dad had shot and killed her mom in front of the children. My parents were devastated and distraught. I don’t remember many details because I was about 9 at the time, but I remember my mom caring for the 4 children, taking them to the health department to get their vaccinations. When she discovered they had been neglected, she did various other things for them. Eventually my parents were able to get them into Connie Maxwell Children’s Home inGreenwood. I am convinced, knowing my parents as an adult now, they would have adopted them had my mother not been so sick and almost died when I was young. I am pretty sure that is why they made the decision to get them into a children’s home.

To fast forward to the letter I read to my mom just over a year ago, Judy wrote to Mom about the influence my mom had been. She expressed her gratitude for the financial support Mom had sent to Judy and her family over the years. It was so touching and moving to me. It spoke volumes to me about the quiet, but precious life, my mom has lived before me. Matthew 6: 3,”But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” This verse was lived out right there before me. She is the wind beneath all of our wings in life and in the lives of many others. It is the simple daily strokes of the paint brush of my life that my mom has made by living 2 Thessalonians 3:13, “As for the rest of you, dear brothers and sisters never get tired of doing good,” and all of Proverbs chapter 31 but especially verse 20,”She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.” I am convinced that one day in heaven my mother will be a “Rock Star”. Her quiet life has been lived “OUT LOUD” before me and continues to be an inspiration and the wind beneath my wings.

The take away for me and I am praying for the reader is NEVER GROW WEARY IN DOING GOOD, THE HARVEST WILL COME! AND Even if you think your actions are not noticed or appreciated just remember, God sees, He is the only one that matters and the “Beans” come up when you least expect them and when you look back, without thought of recognition, there will be a beautiful garden.

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