Quiet Heroes

My devotion for today really spoke to me. I'm not perfect. I'm a sinner saved by grace. I don't consider myself a hero in any way. I often wonder "how" my children see me. I'm just doing what I feel God is leading me to do. I'm attempting to be the mom He wants me to be. I daily ask forgiveness for my shortcomings and for His guidance on my journey. I pray that He blesses me with wisdom, knowledge, courage and strength to do what He wants me to do. I want to be the best mom, "I" can be.

When I was younger I looked up to my dad. Even thought I knew he had faults, in my eyes, he could do no wrong. Even now, that I'm almost 44 and he's almost 71, I still look up to my dad. He's one of my heroes to me... do I have others? Yes... Jesus Christ and my Knight.

Quiet Heroes
by Max Lucado

Quiet heroes dot the landscape of our society. They don’t wear ribbons or kiss trophies; they wear spit-up and kiss boo-boos. They don’t make the headlines, but they do sew the hemlines and check the outlines and stand on the sidelines. You won’t find their names on the Nobel Prize short list, but you will find their names on the homeroom, carpool, and Bible teacher lists.

They are parents, both by blood and deed, name and calendar. Heroes. News programs don’t call them. But that’s okay. Because their kids do … They call them Mom. They call them Dad. And these moms and dads, more valuable than all the executives and lawmakers west of the Mississippi, quietly hold the world together.

Be numbered among them. Read books to your kids. Play ball while you can and they want you to. Make it your aim to watch every game they play, read every story they write, hear every recital in which they perform.

Children spell love with four letters: T-I-M-E. Not just quality time, but hang time, downtime, anytime, all the time. Your children are not your hobby; they are your calling.

Your spouse is not your trophy but your treasure.

Don’t pay the price David paid. Look ahead to his final hours. To see the ultimate cost of a neglected family, look at the way our hero dies.

David is hours from the grave. A chill has set in that blankets can’t remove. Servants decide he needs a person to warm him, someone to hold him tight as he takes his final breaths.

Do they turn to one of his wives? No. Do they call on one of his children? No. They seek “for a lovely young woman throughout all the territory of Israel … and she cared for the king, and served him; but the king did not know her” (1 Kings 1:3–4).

I suspect that David would have traded all his conquered crowns for the tender arms of a wife. But it was too late. He died in the care of a stranger, because he made strangers out of his family.

But it’s not too late for you.

Make your wife the object of your highest devotion. Make your husband the recipient of your deepest passion. Love the one who wears your ring.

And cherish the children who share your name.

Succeed at home first.

From Facing Your Giants
Copyright (W Publishing Group, 2006) Max Lucado