With grace and strength she carried me. 9 months whole, serving her family as the pangs of labor took over. It was a day of celebration while life within beckoned for release. She waited for me, rejoiced over me. I am my mother’s daughter.
She has seen the world. Days have been filled with love bursting forth intermixed with sorrows increasing. She’s seen loss time and time again. She’s witnessed the taking of the soul in her midst, praising her Savior amidst pain. And she has given herself, empty, to those who took up residence in her womb. Not only her own, but open arms have embraced so many; step-children, grandchildren, and friends alike.
She has worn strength and dignity daily as she stretches herself, putting her own needs behind. Love comes openly and honestly. She doesn’t even know how eyes are fixed upon her, watching, learning, participating alongside. She taught me submission, by acting in ways that give Him glory. Trusting in quiet and gentleness. Without her, where would we be?
She is worthy of praise, especially today, on her birthday.
Happy birthday Mom! We love you so very, very much.
”We do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in our prayers.”
Ephesians 1:16
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