Many as a child would say “I had the meanest mother in the world” as compared to other children. Listen to this testimony and decide for yourself.
While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs, and toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different from the other kids also. But at least I was not alone in my suffering. All my siblings had the same mean mother I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were all the time. You would think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and what we were doing. She insisted if we said we’d be gone an hour, that we be gone an hour or less, not one hour and one minute. I am almost ashamed to admit it, but she actually disciplined us; not only once, but each time we did as we pleased. Can you imagine someone actually disciplining a child when they disobey? (Prov. 22:15). Now you can begin to see how she really was.
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up early the next morning. We could not sleep until noon like our friends. So while they slept, my mother actually had the nerve to break the child labor law — she made us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the beds, learn to cook, and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she lay awake nights thinking of mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth even if it killed us — and sometimes it nearly did! By the time we were teenagers, she was much worse and wiser and our lives became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door and get us.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. None of us has ever been arrested or beaten his mate. And, whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You are right, our mean mother. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults (Prov. 22:6).
Using this as a background, I am raising my children the same way. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean.
I am so thankful God gave me “The Meanest Mother in the World”. Looking back on it, I have never regretted it for one moment.
Thank God for our Mothers…
May their Godly legacies live on through us!