Mom
Is A Prayer
Mom
Is A Prayer
by Dessa Rodeffer
Quill Editor/Publisher
5 May 1999
As I looked at the May calendar to see when Mother's Day is, I noticed that three days earlier on May 6 is National Day of Prayer.
I thought how many times children have driven mothers to their knees. First in thanksgiving for such a precious child, then soon it is for tolerance, guidance, and wisdom in raising them.
God created women wise enough that she possess many skills, but also weak enough that she would depend upon God.
How many prayers does it take to motivate, protect, mend, guide, forgive, trust, teach, and encourage the children.
I know my mother has personally prayed many times for the protection of us and for other young people in our community.
My daughters-in-law, both pray without ceasing for their husbands, their children, their family and friends. In Oklahoma Monday, my daughter-in-law said hundreds of people had been praying for the safety of Tulsa during the critical storms that took 45 lives. The tornado which was headed for the city from the southwest seemed to disappear and then took up force again on the north side of the city.
In a world where it is not even safe to send your children to school, mother can only pray.
This Mother's Day - Remember Mom for all the prayers she has blessed you with over the years.
And my prayer is for all the children to take up the torch and keep the fire of prayer going to protect, guide, and inspire the next generation into greatness.
Remember that mom is the one who wrestled with the angels for our benefit. Can't you keep her in your thoughts and prayers, too?
"I shall never forget my mother, for it was she who planted and nurtured the first seeds of good within me."
My Mother
Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hushed me in her arms to rest
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.
When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept, for fear that I should died?
My Mother.
Who dressed my doll in clothes so gay,
And fondly taught me how to play
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee
Who was so very kind to me?
My Mother
- Ann Taylor