I can be a mom, but I cannot be a Savior

I am a mom, but I am not a Savior

         You are busy, you have stuff to do, and you hear your child’s voice calling you from the back door. You ignore them, because that is what any self-respecting mother who expects to get anything at all done in a twenty four hour period would do. The calls are insistent. That kid is not going away. Whatever they have to say is apparently worth repeating “maaaaaammmmmmaaaa” seventeen times. The eighteenth time the little voice takes on a forlorn tone as if you have abandoned them forever. The tone of voice does its work, and your awakened feelings of pity send you immediately to admire the flower they have found (one of the approximately four billion weeds in the yard), be appropriately sympathetic about the scratch on their finger (which you can’t actually see), get them a drink (which they could have gotten themselves), assure them that … Continue reading