Doubly Blessed

This Mothers' Day, I want to honor two mothers who have made such a difference in my life: my mom and Bill's mom. The first poem below I wrote in 2016, when Mother's Day was on May 8, for my Mama, Frances Mary Ballard Boley Benge. The second one is a poem whose author I don't know. I first saw in on the wall of an elderly couple's home whom I sat with once while in college. It was such a beautiful poem that I hurriedly copied it down on notebook paper while at their house. Always the hopeless romantic, I prayed I'd know it's beauty experientially one day. God answered that prayer in Bill's mom, Janet Marie Dillon Hall. These virtuous ladies are priceless! Having been a pastor's wife for a dozen years, I can say without a doubt that there is an immeasurable difference in the lives of children who have and do not have godly mothers and fathers. It is the weightiest ministry a person can have for the kingdom of God. May we do it well for His glory, as these two ladies have/are doing!




Dawn

“Her children arise up, and call her blessed…” – Prov. 31:28

I stepped outside the eighth of May
To cut some flowers for Mothers’ Day,
But stopped on steps and looked about,
For morning did its message shout.

The secrets of the clear bright dawn
Sang out to me a mother’s song,
And truths that I saw pictured there
I now write down with you to share.

As newly risen sun did shine
On all its pale orange rays did find,
I thought of tender smiles I've seen
From my mom, that gave light to me.


I heard the varied songs of birds
Who praise their Maker without words.
My mom’s sweet songs still fill my heart,
For she often sang as she moved about.

I saw the trees stand tall and straight.
I’ve seen them stay the same; it’s great
To know my mom still steady is
Through all life’s changes of that and this.

I felt the gentle breeze of spring
The refreshing coolness that it brings,
Like sweet encouragement to press on
That mom has brought when night was long.

I saw and smelled the flowers rare;
A delicate beauty beyond compare
Can only be likened to the touch and sight
Of Mama: when she’s near, all’s right.

I had to smile, for then I heard
A rooster calling to his world.
I thought of my mom waking us
Day after day, despite our fuss!

Last I wandered to the creek;
I expected busy bubbling to meet,
But in stillness it mirrored the trees above,
As my mom reflects the God she loves.

My mom would say she’s not so good,
But I say, she’s done all she could
To live for God and family,
To obey His Word so faithfully.

And if one day when my daughters are grown
These truths to them I will have shown
As “Mama” I will successful be.
The secret’s this: Jesus in me.

I send these words across the miles
To you, Mom, via e-mail files,
And all my love and hugs come, too.
Thank you for all you are and do!






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