Today is Memorial Day in the US, a day when we remember those who died fighting for the freedoms we enjoy. I went to church yesterday. We came openly without fear and left our cars in a parking lot visible from the main road where anyone who passed could see we were there. The preacher spoke freely. The adult Sunday School teacher said some things that would not be popular in Washington. Another woman and I taught our children about the armor God has given us for protection against Satan’s schemes. We were not afraid of being arrested for corrupting the young. That isn’t true everywhere.
Last week we remembered and honored our mothers. This week I would like to talk about the joy of being one! Katie made me a mom. I guess it isn’t fair to broadcast the year on the internet. What a joyful day!
Mother’s Day 1946. My parents were married in Indianapolis, Indiana. My mother wore a blue suit that afterwards was her best church outfit. They intended to be missionaries to India, but my dad came down with tuberculosis that year and my mom with rheumatic fever, and it was eighteen years before they made it to India.
LeAnne Hardy has lived in six countries on four continents. Her books come out of her cross-cultural experiences and her passion to use story to convey spiritual truths in a form that will permeate lives.