The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

Dear Friends,

Don’t you just hate waking up with a bad dream stuck in your brain? Sometimes the only way to get rid of it is to discuss it with your friends. This morning I had one of those dreams.

My dream was about a toddler who had a big black snake slither down the baby’s throat. I had to get up. The vision was so disturbing to me. My mind would not stop trying to figure out how to get the snake out of the baby.

This precious baby had to be saved. What was the snake? I decided with the help of my friends; that the snake was a symbol of evil. We all know that the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.

We are all results of the nurturing or lack thereof from our mothers. We can choose to be hateful or we can choose to be loving. Our words and actions are molding our children and the people around us. When you feel the urge to say things in a hateful tone I want you to stop yourself. Then ask yourself this important question. How would I feel if someone said that to me?

If you really process this in your head before you speak; you would never scar your children with the venom that comes from your vicious fangs. This also works when you speak to your husband. So instead spouting your nasty words, just say thank you. It doesn’t matter if thank you is appropriate or not. Maybe you are thanking yourself for not turning your family against you.

The Bible teaches to us, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Luke 6:31NIV

Our perfectionism is the reason we spew the venom. When we let go of it; we can give up our control issues. Everything does not have to be a battle. The Christmas season is when my mother’s perfectionism made our lives miserable. We don’t have to live this way. We can forgive them and bless others with kind words of appreciation.

When we treat others the way we want to be treated; this world will be a much nicer place to live. Now I am crying as I remember a testimonial from a mother who was not a happy morning person. She was hateful to her son and he left the house with tears in his eyes. Her ugly words were ringing in his ears as he rode his bicycle to school. Those were the last words he heard from his mother. This precious child was hit by a car.

I live by three rules.

Don’t sweat the small stuff; what doesn’t matter, just doesn’t matter.
Laugh every day, even if it is at yourself.
And Love like there is no tomorrow.

The choice is yours!
FlyLady

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle Is The Hand That Rules The World

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,
Mother’s 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.

William Ross Wallace
1819-1881

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