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