How much is an individual worth? What about a woman? A child? The present administration has set up criteria to measure the worth of the individual to society. Obviously, the older you get, the more money your health care will take, which they dislike. They planned on having a board to decide who got health care and who didn’t. Elderly won’t receive care past a certain age. Based on the evolutionary standard, survival of the fittest, a person isn’t worth much. Evolutionists would view each of us as an accident of nature.
You determine worth by how much someone is willing to pay. Jesus gave his life to redeem us from sin. That makes each of us priceless.
Today we have the nightmare of human trafficking in which men entrap girls and women and enslave them for sexual pleasure. What a horror. As mothers and wives, we want our families protected and we long to see the captors freed.
Susan Coggins Norris speaks out for those in slavery, and she gives safety advice to keep us all free.
Learn more about her ministry here. Her personal page is here.
Many Christians have a heart for the myriads of needy children in the world, but adoption comes with mega challenges. Should I adopt? Sue Badeau shares her wisdom on being that ‘forever mother.’ Listen and avoid the pitfalls or encourage those who tackle the challenges. Learn more about Sue and her ministry here.
Mothers with a prodigal child often detest Mother’s day. Janet Perez Eckles offers hope. Learn more about Janet at www.janetperezeckles.com
How can you help the mother of a prodigal? One mother answers:
I never expected to find myself in this plight. Ever. The news blew my world into tiny shards. I poured my soul into my children. I gave all I had, and then more. When we revealed the bad news, I felt as if I’d released hot air from an overinflated balloon that threatened to pop. Afterwards, I came to church bleeding, bruised, and broken. Fellow believers tried to show they cared but didn’t know how. So what does the mother of a prodigal need?
Please don’t give me a pep talk. My mind shuts down after the first sentence. The energetic words feel like a baseball bat flogging my soul. I crave gentleness. Please don’t tell me to love my child. It’s like tossing my shattered heart into a food processor. I wouldn’t hurt so badly if I didn’t love so deeply. Those words make me feel charged, accused, and sentenced, when I committed no crime.
Please don’t give advice unless I request it. Mothers can’t tell the entire story. Besides I’m too emotionally exhausted to do that anyway. I can’t and won’t explain why recommendations won’t work. Pat answers don’t help. Formulas are a bit unwieldy because my situation is unique.
Please understand my grief. I do have hope, but no guarantees. God is all powerful, but he also gives people freedom to sin. The Lord doesn’t always fix problems this side of heaven, and I’m trying to live now. That’s hard enough.
On the other hand…
Please let me talk. At times I feel like I’m going to explode, and if someone lets me share, it lightens the burden. Once I fill you in on the latest, a hug is great medicine. Offer your love and remind me you’re always ready to listen.
Please pray for me. Assure me you’ll continue to lift our family to God. That touches me deeply.
Please let me cry and encourage me. Rub my back while I weep your shoulder. I feel vulnerable and out of control. Tell me I’m still a valuable part of God’s church, and I have something vital to give. Remind me that I bear no guilt.
