Mark Tabata’s Weekday Devotionals:
Friday February6 2026
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Psalm 35:14-I paced about as though he were my friend or brother; I bowed down heavily, as one who mourns for his mother.
There is a special beauty and dignity of motherhood that is unique and praiseworthy. David here talks about a special kind of grief, one that tears and rips at his heart. He describes this grief as “one who mourns for his mother.” I am reminded here of the words of the great Albert Barnes.
“The psalmist here evidently designs to illustrate the depth of his own sorrow by a reference to the deepest kind of grief which we ever experience. The sorrow for a mother is special, and there is no grief which a man feels more deeply or keenly than this. We have but one mother to lose, and thousands of most tender recollections come into the memory when she dies. While she lived we had always one friend to whom we could tell everything-to whom we could communicate all our joys, and of whose sympathy we were certain in all our sorrows, however trivial in their own nature they might be. Whoever might be indifferent to us, whoever might turn away from us in our troubles, whoever might feel that our affairs were not worth regarding, we were sure that she would not be the one; we were always certain that she would feel an interest in whatever concerned us. Even those things which we felt could be scarcely worth a father‘s attention we could freely communicate to her, for we were sure there was nothing that pertained to us that was too insignificant for her to regard, and we went and freely told all to her. And then, how much has a mother done for us! All the ideas that we have of tenderness, affection, self-denial, patience, and gentleness, are closely connected with the recollection of a mother, for we have, in our early years, seen more of these tilings in her than in perhaps all other persons together. Though, therefore, we weep when a father dies, and though, in the formation of our character, we may have been more indebted to him than to her, yet our grief for him when he dies is different from that which we feel when a mother dies. We, indeed, reverence and honor and love him, but we are conscious of quite a different feeling from that which we have when a mother is removed by death.” (Albert Barnes, Barnes On The Whole Bible: Albert Barnes’ Notes On The Whole Bible, 3924-3925 (Kindle Edition): Amazon)
Those of us who have loving and Christian mothers know what a treasure and a blessing that they are. How thankful we should be!
It is no wonder that throughout time people have reflected on the influence for good that mothers wield in the world.
The Hand That Rocks The Cradle is The Hand That Rules The World
William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard it 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 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 darkness,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
(From: http://www.potw.org/archive/potw391.html)
Lord, thank You for the mothers that have so encouraged and guided us. Help us to honor them in our lives. Amen.