Mother's Hands

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Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they’re soft and perfect
Do I love my mother’s hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother’s hands so gladly labored
Mother’s hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother’s hands were hands of prayer

Mother’s hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother’s hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother’s hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother’s hands would always reach me
When no other hand e’er could

Mother’s hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life’s darkest hour
Mother’s hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother’s praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they’ve gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer

Janet~

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

Not because of gold or silver
Not because of jeweled bands
Not because they're soft and perfect
Do I love my mother's hands
But because these hands once held me
Tenderly close to her breast
And because these hands would point me
To the path she knew was best

Mother's hands so gladly labored
Mother's hands so seldom still
Never seeking her own favor
Giving always her free will
But the thing of greatest beauty
As she tended to each care
Was her source of strength for duty
Mother's hands were hands of prayer

Mother's hands would clap to praise me
For a good deed I had done
Mother's hands were there to save me
When my deeds had hurt someone
And my mother's hands would teach me
What is right and what is good
Mother's hands would always reach me
When no other hand e'er could

Mother's hands so full of power
When her load was hard to bear
Even in life's darkest hour
Mother's hands would fold in prayer
Oh, no matter where I travel
Or how great the sights or grand
There is none to make me marvel
Like my mother's praying hands

Praying hands can reach her children
When they've gone so far away
Mother knows that God will reach them
As she folds her hands to pray
Gracious Father, up in Heaven
Bless each mother everywhere
In each country, tribe or nation
Bless the hands, the hands of prayer - See more at: http://www.christart.com/poetry/poem5392.htm#sthash.JEzn2ATS.dpuf

A Poem for my Mom...The Beauty of a Mother's Love

  

for more quotes on mothers click here

How does one spell with inept word

The beauty of a mother’s love?

How does one tell of oceans stirred

Within the heart from God above?

How does one speak of tenderness

Portrayed in humble, simple task

Giving in gentle faithfulness

Beyond what we would think to ask?

How does one shape with trembling quill

The gratitude of tears and years

And prayers of Mother’s yielded will

When she was heavy with love’s fears?

How do we weave in poetry

The thoughts that have no written mold

Of human heart humility

And secret sacrifice untold?

The beauty of a mother’s love

In all its pure, imperfect form

Is perfect; we thank God above

And spell in ink, ‘I love you, Mom’

© Janet Martin

I was wishing that I could write a ‘perfect’ Mother’s Day poem for my mom. (I am a mother. I am keenly aware of my glaring imperfection.) But my love for my children, as it passes through God’s grace, is perfect. When I think of my Mother and all she sacrificed (and that is only what I could see) as she raised a family of ten children I am speechless with gratitude and I ask, ‘How can I spell with inept word the beauty of a mother’s love…?’ No, we are not perfect, but love is!

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers and those with a mother-heart!

When I was a school-girl we learned this song. This is the only print version of the song that I can find and it does not seem to be on you-tube:) ...a pity!

I Ought to Love my Mother

 

My Mother ABC's

  

Angel-in-disguise

Beautiful baker and believer

Compassionate caregiver and cook

Diligent and devoted

Empathetic, energetic

Faithful and fervent

Godly,gentle, gracious gardener

Humble, happy homemaker

Industrious

Joyful

Kind

Loving and laughing laundress

Modest, merciful meal-maker

Noble, non-judgmental

Ordinary to others, extra-ordinary to me

Praying, prudent, patient

Quilter, quiet listener

Reader,  

Selfless server, seamstress, singer

Tender, thoughtful teacher,

Understanding, utmost blessing on earth

Virtuous voice of reason

Wise, wonderful,

X-ample

Youthful, (even in her 70’s)

Zealous for God

I love you, Mom.

Thank-you for being an example that we can look to for anything!

Janet~