I have been persuaded to get back to writing and sharing. So much has changed since I last blogged, that I decided to start fresh. We'll see where this goes...
My name is Becky. I'm a wife, a homeschool mom of 4 kids, a Sunday School teacher, and I hope, an encouraging friend. I am passionate about faith and family. When I contemplated "Mama's Corner," many pictures came to mind about corners. My home is my corner of the world, and sometimes I only have the corner of the bed when the kids join, am I right? Some of my favorite moments of motherhood with my little ones is when they snuggle in all curled up on my lap. My 3 year old son still grasps the ends of his blanket to find the corner edges to roll them between his chubby little fingers. The corners are his favorite. I also pictured the old paintings of Betsy Ross sewing our nation's first flag. She's seen working on a corner of the flag, piecing it together one stitch at a time.
My desire is to encourage other parents, especially moms, as we make our homes and families a haven from the crazy world. Our role is rarely glamorous and almost always carried out behind the scenes, but it makes such a difference. I don't do it perfectly or have it all together. Sometimes, it seems a very lonely road. Yet, I know there are more of us out there with the same heart's cry to see God's goodness in the land of the living. As we band together and seek the Lord for wisdom and guidance in our own corners, we are sure to see the beautiful ripples of His blessing. I just love this old poem:
Mamas, we have full responsibilities. We are wives and mothers, growing babies in our wombs, filling empty tummies, tending to and mending hearts, and raising the next generation for the Lord in the land we've been given. Our layouts may look a little different, but we have great influence in our corners.
The Hand That Rocks the Cradle Rules the World
- by William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow —
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep – oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky —
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
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