A giver of gifts, not my specialty.
Empty wallet, distant feet, words that struggle to leave my heart to speak.
For each of my children, if you could take an imaginary ride through my veins, you would witness my mind reciting thankful strains,
a heart bulging with inexpressible love,
and through each vessel, your name resounding in your mama’s blood.
My child, you are knit to me.
With lack, and loss, and struggles, and pains, I seek to think on an abundant theme:
God the Father, Jesus, His Son, and the Holy Spirit—God is love.
He’s the Beginning, He’s the End. He saved me, remade me, fills me new, time and time again.
He’s my “same old” song on my one-stringed guitar. He’s my note that hammers and slides, with added harmonics.
The bread, His body, broken for me, the blood that was shed on Calvary, He bid me to come to His Table one day, that I might leave with Him every guilt and every stain.
The Table is where I gave Him my all.
He faithfully re-created me. He told me, “I will not let you fall.”
Following His grace notes, He’s added more strings.
God is blessed with family. The struggle for unity, harmony, and joy each one knows.
I give you Jesus. He’s the wine never ending, the Bread, the beauty a Rose.
The invitation comes from the King of all Kings. His word is true, He’s hope. He’s life. He’s deliverance. He’s rest.
“Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God–” (1)
Jesus is the name above every name. He never changes, never leaves, He forgives, He believes, . . .
in you.
Always.
He is faithful. Of Him only, this is true.
He’s your keeper, your healer. He breaks down every wall. He’s present. He’s patient. He’s power, and peace.
He was spat on, beat, abused. He was hated. He knows your every thought, good, bad, and weighted. He accepts you. He’s perfect,
so the best gift I could ever give to you my daughters and sons, (apart from the first birth, many years ago), I can offer you Jesus, for a new birth, right now, right here,
that daily we can share His world together with new eyes and new ears, and we grow in His grace and His knowledge for all eternity’s years.
Talk to Him now, read His word daily. Love floods in like a symphony’s song . . .
I love you forever, my sons and daughters, oh, but He loves you most, more than any other,
for now and forever,
I am a thankful mom.
(1) John 1:12
When my God seems small, I need to stop. To behold. To take time. To look and read.