June 28

And the child grew, and one day he went out to his father, who was with the harvesters. “My head! My head!” he complained to his father. So his father told a servant, “Carry him to his mother.” After the servant had picked him up and carried him to his mother, the boy sat on her lap until noon, and then he died. — 2 Kgs 4:18-20 BSB

A child went out happily into the harvest field where his father and the reapers were busy. But the sun was hot, and soon the child was crying in pain. The father was too occupied to tend to him, so he sent him home with a servant. Mothers, however, are never too busy to care for their children. The boy’s mother tenderly took him in her arms, doing all she could to soothe him. But by noon, the child was dead in her arms.

What a change a few hours made in that home! We can never be sure, when we part in the morning, whether our joyful laughter will be turned to grief by nightfall. This awareness should make our home life tender and loving, for any moment we share together could be our last. The scene of the Shunammite mother holding her dead child is a scene that has been repeated in countless homes, touching the hearts of mothers throughout the ages. Though she lived thousands of years ago, her grief makes her kin to mothers everywhere.