|
A Mother’s Prayer
Lord, go with her where I won’t go
Through a weeded field or a wet mud hole
Watch her chase the dog across the yard
I know she’ll fall, but not too hard
Grant her health that she’ll grow strong
Lots of friends that she’ll belong
Let her know she’s in Your care
At her call, You’re always there
But go with her where I can’t go
Through long dark nights and valleys low
Help me Lord, to be the one
To prove to her it can be done
I’ll leave my mark so she can see
That I’ve lain beneath that juniper tree
I’ll slice her a piece of Elijah’s cake
For strength that next hill to take
Then I’ll climb this mountain, steep and long
To turn around and cheer her on
That she might clearly see my track
Without a thought of looking back
But then let her see me soar so high
It’ll place in her a will to fly
To have from You what man can’t give
That her life for You, she’ll always live
For on that day when she’ll be grown
And has a family all her own
Let her be the one that firmly stands
On a rock that’s sure, not sinking sands
Because it matters not who knows her name
Or what earthly wealth she might obtain
Her presence may not draw a crowd
But as long as she’ll proclaim out loud
That You’re Lord of all she says and does
Of all that is and all that was
If she’ll say, “This world is not my home
I’ll stand for Him if it be alone”
Then I’ll not regret a single step
Not one bitter tear I’ve wept
For we’ll both agree, they were tears well cried
On a street of gold. . .side by side
_____________________________________________________________
Mother
I stood for what seemed hours
And browsed with you in mind
Looking for the perfect card
That had a perfect rhyme
There were ones that looked real pretty
With lovely words to say
Meant to bring someone some cheer
On such a special day
But I found not a single card
By the time that I was through
That told of where I just might be
Had it not been for you
I guess it should say something like
I’m glad that you were there
And thank you for the countless nights
You spent for me in prayer
It needs to tell you, you were right
When you said it’d be okay
As the world had all forsaken me
And turned to walk away
It needs to read in letters bold
What kind of mom you are
For through the years reminding me
About my morning star
And telling me I could be
For God, anything
For when you’re called to be His servant
Don’t stoop to be a King
Your job has not been easy
You’ve invested many tears
I’d like to find a card to somehow
Make up for those years
I guess I should apologize
I searched for one real hard
But in spite of all my effort. . .
I just couldn’t find a card
Happy Mother’s Day
Nineteen hundred and ninety three
I Love You. . .
Your daughter, Lona
_________________________________________________________________
The Game
I remember when you’d tuck me in at night before we prayed
We took some time of yours and mine for a game we often played
I’d tell you that I love you from here to Mars and then
You would say that you loved me to there and back again
As often as we played that game I never figured out
Who was loved the most, but this I know without a doubt
That there’s far more that’s on my team to echo how I feel
Because you’re loved by all of us and then by others still
You’re loved by those in foreign lands because you heard the call
When Dad began to weep then you, with him, forsook it all
Let me tell you what’s the bottom line, I’ll tell you what I know
If not for you Geto would have been left in the road
He would have died there in the mud for who knows who to find
You saved him when you bid Dad go and said you’d stay behind
To play a little game with me and as the story goes
You kept watch out your window looking for your rambling rose
Now the Nassons and the Johnnys can change the destinies
Of those otherwise forgotten in some land across seas
Not to mention in a nation that’s somewhere south of here
Where there’re babies that you’ve mothered from afar for all these years
The tummies that you’ve helped to fill are now singin’ your tune
Some little boy in Mexico loves you to the moon
Along with every one you’ve touched and every life you’ve changed
Since I’ve recruited other nations, let’s just say I won the game
___________________________________________________________________
Remember This
We’ve gathered all the tulle that we can find in dusty rose
We’ve glittered everything that has a name and has a nose
We’ve got a dress of satin, the rings and the bouquet
But among what you remember should be what I have to say
I’d like to tell you to remember that there’s not a perfect man
But there are some ways to make him think it’s you that’s given in
When you win a fight remember that you’re not allowed to gloat
Be prepared after today to part with your remote
Remember not to panic when an odor fills the room
And the dinner guest proceeds to ask the brand of your perfume
Remember how to smile when you’d rather pitch a fit
But most of all remember what it is you can’t forget
You can’t forget a pair of little shoes where it began
Before we were ever thought of someone shined and polished them
She had washed a pair of little socks and dried them by the stove
For a little boy whose mom was sick, he wasn’t very old
But every Sunday morning she’d slip on his little shoes
And march him down a lane of destiny that filtered down to you
The day that Pearl Manchester took our dad to Sunday School
Affected how we feel about each bow that’s tied in tulle
For a seed back then was planted that would grow and then become
Our heritage of honor and we’ve got to pass it on
‘Cause it’s never been about the earthly goods that we can horde
But it’s really all about what we’ve accomplished for the Lord
When this wedding’s long been over and your dreams are realized
In the form of little blessings that you cradle in the night
Every Sunday morning when they’re bathed and dressed and kissed
As you’re slipping on their little shoes. . .please remember this
Congratulations
Shanda and Robb Tripp
September, 29, 2000
_________________________________________________________________
A Miracle Of My Own
I never touched the rock that Moses smote at God’s command
And I never felt the water that spring forth flow through my hand
I never stood in the temple where the Hebrew boys weren’t harmed
But there’s a miracle that’s nestled soundly in my arms
I’ve not laid beside Bethesda but I know what it is to wait
And have another pass me by who didn’t hesitate
I’ve not sailed on Galilee but I’ve seen a stormy place
None of which now matters as I cradle bows and lace
I wasn’t there when Hannah wept but I’ve known an empty womb
When I longed to one day tiptoe past what was an empty room
My shoulders never had to bare the weight of the whole world
But what load I’ve known has dwindled to a tiny baby girl
A trail of tears can now be found that leads from there to here
Abruptly stopping at the place where sits a rocking chair
After all this time I finally have my Bella Sloan
Now I can touch and see and hold a miracle of my own
Written for the parents of
Isabelle Sloan Tripp
Terry and Kim Tripp
April, 2005
____________________________________________________________
That Feeble Man and I
I stepped just inside the door to get in from the rain
And found myself the nearest seat while waiting for the train
There he sat, a feeble man, with hair of silver gray
First he turned toward me, then I heard him say
“This isn’t just another train you’re waiting on, you see
This one here, someone made especially for me
For when I stepped up to that window I heard the man behind it say
“This train ain’t bound for nowhere, except for yesterday”
I’ve had this urge down deep inside to see ‘ol friends back home
The old house, it’s still standing there, but all my friends are gone
So “I’ll take a trip,” I told myself, and I made up my mind
Not to journey toward that house, but journey back in time”
Silently I listened as he told me it was true
“We’re going back to yesterday,” he said, “I’m telling you”
I looked down at my hand and saw my ticket there
I heard the whistle blow and knew the train was here
Slowly I stepped outside and there to my surprise. . .
A little girl with long brown hair who had my smile and eyes
There they were, all my friends I had know in years gone by
Oh the joy to step aboard. . .that feeble man and I
|
