The Hand That Rocks the Cradle
Mother’s Day Thoughts
Hi. Throughout my ministry, I’ve at times used the line, “The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.” Imagine my surprise this morning when I discovered it’s from a poem by William Ross Wallace, “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” (1865). Since it is in the public domain, I’ll just include the full text at the end. It is short and it rhymes; so, it’s the best kind of poem.
Now, even though it’s from an old poem, is it true? Within a certain window of poetic license, I say it is. Every generation is formed, to a large degree, by mothers (specifically, the caregivers of early childhood, but generally, moms). But I don’t have it in me just now to draw out long lines of thoughtful reasoning. I do, however, have it in me to make a list of examples.
Abraham Lincoln said of his mother, Nancy Lincoln, “All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” He credited her for the moral influence on his own character. She died when he was nine.
Monica of Hippo is known for her unconditional love for her son, praying relentlessly for him to return to God while he lived another lifestyle. He did return, and became one of the most significant Christian leaders, St. Augustine.
Jochebed defied the Pharaoh and preserved her infant son from watery death. That boy, Moses, defied the Pharaoh whose army was defeated in watery death.
Before Hannah ever bore a child, she committed him to the Lord’s service. Samuel was a prophet, priest, and Judge of Israel, and the one whom God used to anoint their first two kings.
Mary did not ask to become the mother of Jesus. But when God chose her, she became known for her humble acceptance of God’s plans to provide a rescuer.
And when Paul said that there were at least some things the women of Ephesus could not do for the church, he made sure to affirm their godly maternal influence was needed before other discussions of leadership (1 Tim. 2:15).
Note: Neither Paul, nor I, nor anyone else you should trust, is suggesting that motherhood is the total value of anyone, or that its influence is always positive for everyone, but that it is immensely influential in every generation.
And I’ll just drop this here.
To my own mother, mother-in-law, and wife, I’ll add this. You’re all fantastic and I believe with my whole heart that, after the transformation wrought by God Himself, the best parts of who I am, I owe to your words and prayers. (Fathers are great, too! But that’s a different discussion.)
The Hand That Rocks the Cradle (1865)
by William Ross Wallace (Public Domain)
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.