I traveled home today. It has been almost a year that I saw my mom last. I had been reluctant to make the journey because it was going to deplete my already depleted cash reserve, thanks to the federal government for withholding salaries for close to two months.
I was forced to make the decision by series of events. I reasoned that tomorrow will take care of itself, I need to see my folks. So, I drained my bank account and headed for home. The journey was not easy but I got home safe and sound, in one piece.
The reception was as I imagined. My mother screamed and embraced me. Her face shone and her smile was heart warming. I looked around and took in the familiar environment, where I had grown into a man. Nothing had changed. Well, it had. There were subtle traces of depreciation here and there. I closed my eyes and sighed with contentment, it was good to be home.
My mom was all smiles all evening, bursting with energy, running around the kitchen, slicing and dicing and frying things, making my stomach ache from hunger pangs. She would leave the kitchen at intervals and come fawn over me.
At some point after the heavy meal, while reclining on the sofa, my mind drifted off. I recalled the earlier years, growing up in the house. The doting, the discipline, the didactic lectures and the diligence of one woman in making sure her children were properly trained and that they turn out right.
I remembered a statement a friend made concerning my mom. We were at his house and we were talking about school and the challenges we were facing. He said he knew that I had no problems, that my mom was praying for me. He was right. My mom spent all her days praying for her children, day and night. Her prayers covered everything.
I found myself wondering if that was the reason things seem to be going on well for me. How without struggles I achieve so much and did better than my peers. I have always been better academically than my peers even with less efforts at studying.
I recall my mom always saying that we were always going to excel whenever we had any exam to write. She would say that was what she had agreed with God. Maybe I was soaring on the wings of grace and favor with her prayers being the undercurrent. I am not a deeply religious person and I don’t particularly pray long and that is not even regular.
I had read of the power of intercessory prayers sometime ago. The story of Charles Finney and Father Nash. During the lifetime of Father Nash, Finney enjoyed a great boost in his ministry but after the death of father Nash, things took a downward trend. It was said that Father Nash would spend all day in the prayer room whenever Finney was ministering. I concluded that I was really enjoying the benefits of the intercessory prayers made on my behalf by my mom.
What would happen after she dies? I wondered and I panicked at the thought. Would my life take a downward trend? Would I have to start struggling? I had a comforting thought; her prayers for me would still be working long after she has gone. It was really comforting.
Then another thought hit me. Would I be able to do what she has done for me for my children? That thought sobered me. I would need to improve my relationship with God and cultivate a good prayer life especially intercession if I wanted to follow in her footsteps. I am not even sure if it is possible to do as much as she did.
It will be a daunting task but it will be worth it. It’s a sacrifice I will be willing to pay. I made a mental note to get a copy of a book I had seen sometimes in the past “the power of a praying parent”, not that I need any more convincing, but it might contain tips on cultivating the habit of interceding for one’s children.
I have definitely gone through pain and hardship and cried one time too many. I have made mistakes and fallen hard on my face severally. I have disappointed myself and others in my actions over and over. But I have always bounced back, I have found help and have received favors.
I can only marvel at how I seem to always come out unscathed and triumphant. I believe God has been my help and someone must have been at His mercy seat continually, soliciting for that help for me.
I am a product of grace and mercy, God’s grace and mercy. All that I have and I am today, I owe to God and to a woman, a great woman, one who won battles on her knees and then stood tall before men. One who gave her all to make sure her children got the best, became the best. My mother.
So, today I celebrate my mom, the best mom in the world. I wouldn’t have wished for any other mother. I will choose her over and over again.
Thank you mom.
I love you mom.
Will love to hear your own stories about your mother and your best memories of her.