Have you ever had a moment when you stopped and asked yourself how did you get to be the age that you are? Did you even think you’d be the age you are today? It seems that many references associated with my 58 years implies that I’m knocking on the door of senior citizenship. What comes to your mind when you think of senior citizens?
While chatting on the phone with my best friend I asked, “Remember the mothers of the church from back in the day who taught and spoke into the lives of the younger women? Where are they today?” My BFF chuckled and said, “Silly, WE ARE the mothers of the church today!” ME, a church mother already? How did I miss that cue?
What about me places me in the “church mother” category? Is it my age, the recent gray hairs appearing on my edges, how I dress? In my child’s mind, these staples of the church were 80-100 year-old women dressed in white with white doilies on their heads, and you would find some of them on the usher board or sitting on the front pews, rocking and humming during service. They were all-seeing and all-knowing, knew how to pray down heaven, and one look from them was enough to make the crooked things straight!
Now I realize this painted image came from my child-like mind, but that image has remained for me and never modified as I grew into adulthood. So I don’t see myself as being even close to how they appeared to be to me back then? Considering churches of today, are church mothers bred from a different cloth?