I think it is safe to say that the most dangerous animal in the world is the one with young ones. So, say if you have a goose with her goslings in one corner and a rogue lion in the other and you have to choose which one to wrestle, I would say turn your back on that goose and give your full attention to the king of the jungle. Your chances with him are fair, whereas she will have pecked your eyeballs out, made your nose bleed and ripped your shins to shreds before you have even gathered yourself. When the battle is over, the one that you lose, sparks will fly from her eyes and steam from her nose and she will wave her pointy finger at you in such a way that you will be sorry you ever thought it okay to interfere with her territory, the one in which she keeps her charges. “Touch my children and you will be sorry,” say mothers all over the world.
We do not approve of bullying, rumours, sideways glances, spite, unloving interference, agendas, carelessness, manipulation, control or any form of violation where our children are concerned. We understand their potential. We want them to win in life, growing up to be well-rounded individuals contributing to society and doing good wherever they go. When we sense a threat over the ones we call ours we do not ever lie down and play dead. I am a brooding, hovering, alert bear of a mother – sometimes more than others. I may look like I am cleaning the floor, but I am sharpening my sword. I might look like I have fallen asleep but I am learning the art of praying without ceasing. You probably think my feet are firmly on the ground whilst I push my babes on the swings and make their lunches and pack their clothes into their cupboards, but I am marching to a warfare beat. I read them stories and make mohawks in their freshly washed hair. I kiss their freckly noses and chase them. It might appear that we are just playing games but this mothering business is far more than that. We are women under authority; we have a responsibility; and we play our parts with solemn awe. When we need to fight, losing is not an option. There is far too much at stake.
I don’t think that this display of power and ferocity, so disconnected from size and appearance, is only a ‘mother with young’ phenomenon. I imagine it could happen anywhere and with anyone. It is one of those things which doesn’t make perfect sense. You cannot train for this kind of power. It comes to those who are sweetly in position; those with the responsibility, passion and sense of ownership necessary to be anointed with unusual fighting skills. It comes to those in charge of what is vulnerable, new and important and they will witness, first hand, that where they didn’t have what it took before, they do now. There are people, ideas, movements, a Kingdom and a King who are worthy of our words: “You are mine and you are worth dying for.” We need to know what we believe and what is important so that when those things are threatened, our gut instincts are wide awake and we are prepared to annihilate the opposition. Whether we are alerted to a subtle change in law or sour words sweetened with honey or something far more in our faces like a storm of sexual confusion in this generation that is raging out of control; not to mention poverty, the orphan crisis and the breakdown of family. Screen addiction, workaholism, a worldwide sense of entitlement – the list goes on and on – there is much at stake. Somebody needs to do something!
It’s simpler to live safe, quiet, disconnected lives and it’s even wise to mind our own business. The problem is that awful things can occur whilst we are turning a blind eye. We don’t need to go that far back in world history to see that plain and clear. We don’t want to cause a stir and we also aren’t sure if our efforts will make a difference some of the time. We are wary of politics and religion has disappointed us and we often feel that we do not have what it takes. Maybe someone else will do the job. Our world is loaded with crises and opportunities to fight for a good cause. Where is our tenacity to rise up and guard what may not have reached its full maturity? If we could only bottle this ‘fierce fight’ and use it to protect all that is new, vulnerable, innocent, priceless and good without investing ourselves too much in the process. Or perhaps we don’t need to bottle anything, we simply put our hands up and say, “I’ll be The Mom.” As we take ownership, an invisible cloak is placed on our shoulders and we discover an outpouring of strength and ability when we need it most. Not just power for the battle but all that it will take to win.
Isaiah 6 verse 8; And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”
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