A Tribute to Mothers

Franicia with one of our children in 2004. If you purchase Franicia's latest book,  I Know You Love Me, Mommy and Daddy,  you will see this image rendered in watercolor.

Franicia with one of our children in 2004. If you purchase Franicia's latest book, I Know You Love Me, Mommy and Daddy, you will see this image rendered in watercolor.

Thank you, Franicia

It is not unusual for complete strangers to come up to me and thank me for my service to our great nation. It is a great honor to be thanked like that — it never gets old! My reply is often, “It's my privilege,” but, in my mind, I'm thinking, “Franicia makes and has made the bigger sacrifice — she should be thanked!”

There have been times in my career when I've had hours similar to a 9 to 5 job, but I regularly put in at least 10 hours a day. Thankfully, being a pilot has usually forced me to keep my days at no more than 12 hours (one of the reasons why I wanted to fly in the first place).

A Mommy's work is never done

Franicia, though, is always at work — even when I'm home from work. We have a pretty good tag-team policy, though. I will usually try to take on as much as possible when I come home, and we'll help each other out as much as we can. Still, she's always working...even when she's “resting.”

When I eat my meals at work, I generally get to breath and enjoy my food. Franicia, though, stays busy teaching and caring for our children. Her meals will often be interrupted by the need to correct and guide little ones and keep them from hurting themselves during a “peaceful” meal at the family table. Often times, even her naps and “quiet” times are interrupted by children who need attention.

Public recognition

At the end of each of my tours at various units, my bosses recognize all the work that I've accomplished and present me with an award. Unless I recognize my Franicia, though, she rarely receives any recognition. Awards? Nope.

Actually, Franicia not only misses out on public recognition. Often, what she does at home is ridiculed by our society as not being important. She's even been told that she's wasting her talent and time by staying home. This couldn't be further from the truth.

The increase is EXPONENTIAL

Franicia is brilliant. I definitely believe that she's smarter than I am. She's so creative and has some of the most amazing ideas. I love talking to her — she is a wonderful conversationalist and challenges me mentally and spiritually all the time. She's a wonderful mother and cares for our children in a way that nurtures each of them in their own special way. I know that being a homemaker and mother is the hardest thing that she has ever done.

She, along with all the mommies that are engaged in the rearing of their children and the care of their home, is not wasting her time, talent, or intelligence — she's using her time, talent, and intelligence to multiply time, talent, and intelligence. To think that she is wasting her time by being a mommy and a homemaker is so short-sighted. If she were to work outside of the home and leave the caring of our children to the “professionals,”her effort would simply be added to mine. When she invests her time and effort directly into our children, though, the increase is exponential!

Eternally grateful

I'm so incredibly thankful for the mothers in my life — Franicia; my mother, Yvonne; Franicia's mother, the late Anicia Tomokane; my grandmothers, Wanda Dewees and Shirley White; and my great-grandmothers. My life is forever changed because of their investment in my life and in the lives of those around me. The words, “Thank you” cannot express my gratitude. I thank and praise the King of Kings and Lord of Lords for blessing me through you. May you be blessed today and forever for your choice to be faithful mothers.

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

The below poem was written by William Ross Wallace in the 1800's. I don't agree with the words of the last stanza. Worship belongs to God alone. But mothers deserve our support, praise, and gratitude.

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.

Thank you, mothers, for your service

Not only are mothers serving God when they are faithful in their role as mothers, but they are serving, in a way, our nation and society in a way that is much more important and lasting than any service I could ever render in my job in the armed services. For this, I say, “Thank you, mothers, for your service to our God, or nation, and our society. May God bless you as you strive to be the very best mothers that you can be.”

Are you thankful for the mothers in your life? How will you show them that you are grateful and bless them for their investment in your life? Share your answers in the comments below, on Twitter, or Google Plus.