By contributor Stephanie Dawson
Friday June 27 1997 was a memorable day for me in so many ways. The first and most significant was the birth of my son, James. Not only was he my miracle child but he would be my only child. Born by emergency caesarian section, James entered this world prematurely; had convulsions; stopped breathing and was resuscitated but not expected to survive. However, against all the speculations of the doctors and by God’s grace, he did!
Another memory of significance that day in June brought me was the contemplation of being a mother. Wow – I was a mother! Yes, me, a mother! A barrage of questions and thoughts ran through my mind simultaneously: Was I equipped to do this job? (After all, it was, and still is, a huge responsibility.) And was I ready for this major task and life changing episode? Of course I was – all mothers are! We run on instinct and intuition but we just don’t appreciate our worth and abilities at the time. Regardless of the number of text books and instruction manuals available on being a mother, there is no knowledge or skill as important as first hand experience. And there’s certainly no substitute for the lessons life teaches!
As I reflect on the joys and pains in giving birth to my son, I also recognize the joys and trials of my own mother. My fondest memories of childhood are the days of innocence, which seemed carefree at the time, with no worries to weigh down. I now appreciate how I was living under the protection of a strong mother and her awesome God, little realizing the hardship and pressures that actually existed.
I can also reminisce my son’s earlier years and remember times in my life, growing up, where I felt the sense of my mother’s presence at every moment – even when I knew she had gone to work or shopping. There was no hiding place and there was no escape from the hawk like eyes that missed nothing! And so it is with our Father in Heaven – no thing is unseen by His eyes; no prayer goes unheard by His ears and no thought unaffected by His heart.
Despite the fact we are so very different in so many aspects of our lives, I can still see so much of myself in both my mother and James, and I have learned to see them through the eyes of God our Creator. Every emotion, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude, is stirred in me when I recollect the disappontments; the tears; the laughter; the tests; the heartaches; the pain and the joy of a mother’s heart, borne from the love of God.
Stephanie A Dawson