To Mom
with
Love
A Booklet Devoted to
Treasured Memories Only
Mother Can Provide
By Suzanne Vanderbeck
Who can find a virtuous
woman, for her price is far
above rubies
Proverbs 31:10
DEDICATION
This booklet is dedicated to my mom, who
has recently discovered Jesus.
May the love of our Lord open your mind
and heart to the ways of the Spirit and
may these ways give to you a zeal for the
supernatural in your life every day and
always. May you come to know the
Lord in such a way that you know you
will never be alone again. May He bless
you with every gift of the Spirit and may
He give you a fervor to use them for His
glory.
He is yours, Mom, as He is mine, and
He lives!
Love,
Suze
HEAVEN'S LOVE
Our eyes met for the first time
like a sunrise meets the sky --
me, all full of wonder --
you, all full of why.
Our lives were drawn together
in a way that we can't see,
but somehow Jesus knows just
what our love's supposed to be.
I am a child of the Father
and here we are, a product of
two forces brought together
with a hint of Heaven's love.
I'm thankful He saw you waiting
for a chance to give your heart
to someone who needed loving
and assurance from the start.
Now, as the road we have travelled,
narrows down into the night,
I thank my Lord for your keeping
and for His precious light.
May the twilight of your travels
take you upward to the sky
so that you will see our Jesus
and no longer wonder why.
HOW SWEET THE TEARS
How sweet the tears
that from your eyes do flow.
To have such love expressed
and then to know
that every time you call
my heart does glow,
for you are sent from Heaven.
This I know.
Oh, Mother, I can't count
the times that you
gave of yourself when you
were suffering, too.
Come and let us share
your golden years
by making memories
out of all the tears.
Let us be together.
Come and dine
knowing He will make up
for lost time.
HELLO, MOM
Hello, Mom, it's me again;
the one who gives you all the pain;
the one you don't quite understand;
the one who reigns some distant land.
I know that I'm not everything
you thought your loving hand could bring,
but I am one who needs to fly
in ways that cause me to pass by
with heart in hand and clenched up fists
that cause some people to dismiss
my intentions, though they're good
because they're not how others would.
Well, I've a heart that's big and wide
and all are welcome here inside
with big emotions that run wild,
as though I were an unchained child.
He knows we struggle off and on.
He'll make it right before we're gone.
Just trust in Him. Our hearts He'll bind.
A greater love we'll never find.
COZY TIMES
I remember cozy times
filled with starfilled nursery rhymes,
days when I'd come home from school
to Kool Aid drinks to keep me cool
on slow June days when summer's heat
made Kool Aid and Mom a favorite treat.
I remember my first dance.
You shared with me my first romance.
You saw me get my first real flower
and stayed up long after the hour
agreed upon for my return,
for your respect I had to earn.
Now that I'm a mother, too,
I understand the things you do.
For wisdom He has given us
that helps us know when we can trust
our hearts to let go of the ones
so dear to us -- daughters and sons.
Mom, there are no words to say
the things my heart wants to convey.
I'm grateful for the cross you bore
in raising me -- there is no more
that I could say, but know it's true
that I thank God each day for you.
I MAY NOT SHOW IT
I may not show it, but I care.
I may not say the things you'd
like to hear, for they are there
inside my heart.
You may not see it, but I see
the things about you that the Lord
can only see, for they are there
inside your heart.
I may not show it, but I know
how hard it's been for you and that
you
really care, too, for it's there
inside your heart.
I may not say it, but it's true,
that I am glad you are my mother
and I can share with you. It's here
inside my heart.
SERVANT OF THE NIGHT
Oh, precious servant who has come to
stave the night
and turn the empty darkness into
His light,
I bow my head in reverence to your
loving task
and seek forgiveness for the selfish
things I ask.
A love as sweet as this could never know
the whys
of tender loving kisses that could melt
the skies.
Your arms that he has given truly tell
the tale
of victory and giving, for they
never fail.
I do not give you glory for just
anything.
A mother's true love story comes from
our sweet King.
BY HIS GRACE
On His command, I became
a fish within the water,
bathed in love and Sonlight,
a brand-new, holy daughter.
You became the precious vessel
from which I would come forth.
Who knew the heartache and the joy
that our Lord had in store.
Within His hand, there laid
a future filled with promise;
a time when we would know his touch
and his mighty goodness.
I tremble when I think of all
the awkward growing times.
We rode the camel's back to try to make
things come to rhyme.
I thank my Lord for blessings
that he gives me every day.
And I am glad to know your
heart is with me in your way.
Mother, though there have been times
when our love seemed to fail,
I'm grateful that our Lord is here,
for His love shall prevail.
FLOWER
Mother, as the years go by I ponder
all the precious moments of our lives.
There are things I've given to sweet Jesus
and things that keep revolving through my
mind.
But as that door keeps going round
again,
I have to stop and wonder what the cost
of going in circles is to you and me
and whether it is worth all that we've
lost.
Though there are miles between us, you're
near to me;
nearer than you know here in my heart.
Know that you are precious and so dear to
me.
I pray Jesus never lets us part.
Take my hand and follow to a precious
place
where we can love in Jesus by the hour.
Let us now be friends within His loving
light
and let our friendship grow just like a
flower.
CHRISTIANITY OASIS ON LINE
WHERE CHRISTIANITY IS C-O-O-L
Copyright 2000-2008 All Rights Reserved.
Christianity
Oasis Online |
Christian Web Site
This website and all of it's contents are copyright protected and should
not be reproduced,
copied or sold
in whole or in part without express written permission from
Christianity Oasis and/or the author.