Batteries For Babes, Or ‘Mother Love’
So ‘free!’ nurseries are to be extended with younger
children being admitted, from the age of two!! Such is the latest legacy
of New Labour. Surely, a heartless political system, which already
discourages marriage through tax incentives favourable for ‘living over
the brush’! This is the party which would have children reared ‘battery
style’ in communal establishments rather than receive time and love
during a youngster’s most formative years of life. Such heartlessness
could make one weep because those years of potential ‘mother love’ are
irretrievable. Once gone, they are lost forever!
The old saying has it: ‘behind every great man is a
great woman!’ Yes, and methinks more often than not, it has been that
child’s mother! Was it not so with Christ Himself? Mary did not always
understand her son, but she loved Him all the way to Calvary’s cross.
Rudyard Kippling must have known it when he wrote:
If I were hung on the highest cross, mother O mine,
mother O mine.
I know whose love would follow me still,
mother O mine, mother O mine
But tragically, New Labour has downgraded the
complementary roles of motherhood and fatherhood through encouraging –
and, indeed, making it almost obligatory! – for both to use the house as
more akin to a secular dormitory rather than a sanctified home. Has not
this brought about a culture of ‘latch key’ youngsters who’ve been
deprived of both mother love as well as fatherly discipline? Such
youngsters are worthy of much pity, and are not to be condemned a
fraction as much as the seculat state which belittles the soul while it
bloats the head: a lethal combination indeed!
You may well receive this Newsletter just after
having celebrated Mother’s Day? Well, it’s a long time since mothers
were respected as they were during World War Two!. That was a time when
vacuum cleaners were few, and washing machines fewer still. Mums
scrubbed, struggled and toiled to make ends meet. They were, however,
most gifted homemakers; being as protective of their brood as a
free-range hen that gathers its chicks under her wings!.
No wonder such mums were so dearly loved and, indeed,
idolised! Songs were written about them, ranging from ‘Little old lady
passing by’; the final verse of which read: ‘You’re just like that
little old lady I hold dear to me’ Yes, to that other song: ‘To Mother
With Love!’ a verse of which reads ‘that wrinkled face that I love best
must never be sad!’ Well, dear reader, I don’t know about you but I
thank my God for the memory of such a far off Mum,: now with Jesus. My
mother was not only one who had tea prepared, a warm fire and a smile
that melted the heart as I returned from school, but she was also the:
one who knelt down with me nightly at one’s bedside. Yes, teaching me
how to pray; as well as how to live.
The past founders of our Reformed and Protestant faiths did a great
disservice in over reacting to the heightened place that Mary held in
the medieval church. They didn’t ‘throw out the baby with the
bathwater’; I sense they threw out its mother! The greatest mother of
all time may not have been without human weaknesses. She didn’t always
understand her eldest offspring. She sometimes clashed with Him, even
once considering Him to be ‘beside himself!’. She received a gentle
rebuke at times from Him, and needed a Saviour just like the rest of us.
But, at the last, when all others had forsaken Our Lord: ‘there stood
by the cross of Jesus, Mary His mother’. Yes, she’d made the
difficult journey down from Galilee as a poor widow! And, as a spear was
thrust in to her Son’s heart, a sword foretold, seemed plunged in her
own. Well, I pray that today our modern mums might come to their senses
and follow the example of the greatest home maker of all history: the
poor and struggling young maid from the backwoods of Galilee who is now
movingly revered and adored as The Queen Of Heaven.
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