When
I was about twelve years old, I was assigned the job of dusting the
living room. As I removed each item from end tables and shelves, I
came across my mom’s Bible, sitting where she read it in the living
room each morning. I paused in my dusting to thumb through it—the pages worn and marked. Outlines and reminders spilled over
each page; definitions and highlights and remarks from helpful
sermons crowded the small margins. The cover of the Bible had a
crease from being opened so often. My mom didn’t even know that
day that her Bible was preaching a sermon to me. Over the years, my
mom taught junior high English, worked at a restaurant, and even
recorded short readings at a local Christian radio station. But I
tend to think the mark she left from a worn Bible on an end table was
her most noble achievement. It changed my life.
Ever
since Creation, we women have sought to be heard. History records
the stories of noble heroines who protested (Rosa Parks), engaged in
war efforts (“Rosie the Riveter”), and even lay down their lives
(Joan of Arc). As courageous and admirable as each of these heroines
were, we as women have often shortchanged ourselves when it came to
our most important voice. We have the power to change the world—not
just from marches on Washington and posters on our lawns, but first
and foremost from our homes, simply by proving to those who
watch us what we love most.
I
wonder what my kids would say if they were asked what I love most.
Would they run to show you my laptop? Would they have to fish around
the sofa cushions for the TV remote? Would they tell you about the
jar of peanut butter and contraband chocolate chips I keep stashed in
the kitchen cupboard?
Moms,
the future is ours—in the form of a sticky-faced little creature
who peeks around the corner each morning as we pray and read our
Bibles. We shape the future by what we love today.