Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Mother (as in maternal parent) (04/24/08)
- TITLE: A Psalm Of Praise And Pleas
By Holly Westefeld
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
For such a gift, I thank You, Lord; my heart I lift in grateful praise,
For giving me my mother dear, who lovingly endured each phase.
I would but ask and have her time, to share a task or listening ear,
But if I strayed, no slack she gave--the price was paid for boundaries clear.
While I was yet a little child, I'll ne'er forget how I adored
The gift to go to Sunday school, and get to know my living Lord.
She didn't go to church with me, unless a program gave a prod.
Yes, mother taught me right from wrong, but sadly, not the Word of God.
A little girl with dimpled cheek, I loved to curl close while she read
Of strange and wondrous times and beasts; we had such fun, then time for bed.
I loved to climb onto her lap and rock, as time with stealth slipped passed;
But soon school's season swiftly came and flooded me with knowledge vast.
She helped with homework as the need arose; a tome still welcomed sleep.
Activities like dance and knitting classes seized our time, but reaped
Rewarding skills that stretched my mind, like climbing hills the muscles tone.
Oh, cookies we would sometimes bake; how rapidly our time had flown.
My teens approached, uncertain ground; the phone encroached upon our time,
Then dad was gone, we raged and cried and seethed upon adulterous crime.
So then she worked as more than mom--depression lurked--I asked if she
Would come to church; for Jesus' peace I hoped she'd search most fervently.
She took the class and got involved, but that would pass away as dew
When I was grown and moved away; faith not her own, no creature new.
But, Lord, I know how good a mom on Earth below she may have been,
No deeds replace the need for faith, salvation's grace to cover sin.
My words and actions, thus far, failed to bring her back toward You at all,
And time grows shorter every day, before her mortal trumpet call.
So please, dear Lord, enlighten me, or send out toward her others who
Will share Your Word as ne'er before her spirit's heard, and yet break through.
I know You don't impose upon free will which won't Your Spirit heed,
But tightly bind the enemy who slyly blinds, I beg, I plead.
May loud and long she hear the truth, Your love so strong a magnet be,
That all resistance slips away--from Satan's prison she'll be free!
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