My Mom

Rev. Bradley J. Stevens
Sun, May 10, 2009

It's Mother's Day, and I've been thinking about my Mom, especially after a week of preparing my sermon "A Godly Mother" and thinking about Hannah. (I Sam. 1) Hannah wanted a child more than anything and promised God that if He would give her a son, then she would give him back to serve the Lord.

My mom wanted to have a baby so much that she wore a maternity dress to the doctor's office for her pregnancy test. She told him, "You'd better tell me I'm pregnant, or I'm going to feel pretty silly."

But Mom had a secret prayer for me. She hoped that God would call me to serve Him in ministry. The only hint that I ever had, besides her faithfulness to seeing that I and my sibs were always at church meetings and opportunities, was the Bible that she gave to me for my twelfth birthday. She wrote on the flyleaf: "Brad, nothing would please me more than for you to take the words of this Book to a lost and dying world. Love, Mom."

I understood, but I had no idea of the depth of her commitment for me. I wrote this poem today. For her. For Him. For you. For me.

My Mom

My Mom has been gone for eleven years now,
but I still think about her and miss her;
I even get watery eyes sometimes.

My Mom was always encouraging
but never unrealistic;
she didn't give me unreasonable expectations,
but she did give me high hopes.

My Mom wasn't always right,
but she was always passionate;
if she made a mistake, she could admit it,
and if she said something carelessly, she could apologize.

My Mom was seldom affectionate,
but she was always loving;
neither demonstrative physically nor forthcoming verbally,
she nevertheless communicated her love with her life.

My Mom had a dream for me,
but she didn't tell me about it;
she prayed about it until the day
I announced the decision I had made
to put my faith into action in a ministry vocation.

My Mom had not run since she was a child,
but when she heard that her prayers for me had been answered,
she ran to me;
it wasn't pretty, but it was beautiful.

My Mom was not highly educated,
but she was highly intelligent;
she was not rich, but she was wealthy;
she was not always healthy,
but she was always blessed with a good attitude about it.

My Mom did not always smile,
but she could laugh;
she did not always get me,
but she always loved me.

My Mom has been gone for eleven years now,
but I still think about her and miss her;
I even get watery eyes sometimes.

Like now.

Kids, hug your mothers! Thank God for them. Mothers, love your kids enough to give them to God!

God bless you,
Pastor Brad

©2009 Bradley J. Stevens