for the whole sermon click the link...below are a few fav parts of the message
Dear Mom,
To spell my fondest thoughts of you
Ink font is not equipped to do
And tongue alone cannot attest
To depths I plumb to try to wrest
From grateful heart, the perfect way
To tell the thoughts I wish to say
Yet eloquence cannot out-do
These simple words; Mom, I love you
© Janet Martin
and an oldie dusted off ...
(This poem is attached to the fond memory of my sister, a friend who composed a melody for this poem, myself and our daughters singing this poem/song years ago at a mother's Day service at church.
This friend's mother passed away while she was attending our oldest daughter's wedding)
Thinking this morning of all my friends who miss their mother's hands that helped to shape theirs)
Mother's Hands
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~
excerpts from Keeper of the Springs
(click image to enlarge for easier reading)
