My Meaney Mom


Where Living Begins, pastor, Richard L Rice

My mother set rules for me and my siblings as we were growing up. Chew with your mouth closed. Close the door after you. Don’t leave the lights on when you leave the room. Don’t hit your sister.

I remember sneaking some powered hot Chinese mustard home from a restaurant. I liberally applied it to the tongues of the other kids in the house and was promptly sent to my bedroom to think about what I’d done.

Well, I’ll have you know that I thought about it long and hard! I thought about how angry I was and how unfair my mother was to me. Who did she think she was spoiling my fun?

Now that I’m a grown-up, I know that my mother was shaping my morality and showing her love. She didn’t have rules because she was a meaney, but because I could get out of line and harm either myself or others. She didn’t want to raise a spoiled brat bent on enjoying life at the expense of others.

God’s rules are always rather simple: Do not steal. Do not bear false witness. Do not murder. Do not take the Lord’s name in vain, and so forth. Not one of these is a burden meant to ruin our fun but to protect us and those around us. They are actually a revelation of God’s love for us as His children.

For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments. And His commandments are not burdensome (1 John 5:3).

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