That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.

• Genesis 2:24

God also said to Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you are no longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her.”

• Genesis 17:15-16

“Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

• Exodus 20:12

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.
…
Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.

• Ephesians 5:21, 25-27

I was looking through my wife’s files.  She kept everything in manila envelopes.  I knew some contained old photographs, and many people are expecting a PowerPoint show during the meal after her memorial service in June.

My Bittersweet Mother’s Day Poem

I have sinus problems.
I might get sneezy.
But when it comes to poems,
I’m always cheesy.
I was cheap, and she had the only car.
We could have detoured; it would not be far.
But instead of a card, I wrote a note.
It was from the heart, each poem I wrote.
I wrote for Valentines’ Day
And an Anniversary, Hooray
Then celebrating a mother with mirth
And finally the day of her birth.
Each year on special days, I felt such guilt.
She always gave me the cards she bought or built.
But I wrote her a note in haste.
I was sure the note found the can of waste.
Then I search for pictures of her to see.
A full envelope in a pile of music lyrics before me.
I opened the envelope.  This was so much fun
To see photos of her, but there was not even one.
Instead I saw a thick pile of papers of white.
With printing in red, what a surprising sight.
Page after page, until I was done.
She’d thrown none away.  She’d kept each one.
The greeting cards had gone away with a dash.
They had gone with the junk mail and trash.
But she had treasured these poems of mine.
I would always be her Valentine.
So, Jesus, who wipes away our tears, keep the tissues ready.
Once again, I write to my wife, my love for you is steady.
I love Jesus; there is no other.
And I will always love my wife, my children’s mother.

Whether your mother was a good one or not so good, whether she is living or passed on, whether she is your birth mother or the one who filled that role in your youth and beyond, we all have that person we can call “mother.”

Happy Mother’s Day

Soli Deo Gloria.  Only to God be the Glory.