A Mother's Heart

Discussion in 'Literature and Poetry' started by clawmute, Dec 9, 2008.

  1. A Mother's Heart

    A Mother’s Heart


    By F. L. Jennings


    Written for Martha, Mother’s Day, May 11th, 2008



    Those dreams you dreamt as a girl while lying sprawled
    in Spring’s green grass,freckled face,
    hands behind your head, contemplating clouds,
    dreams still dreamt as you became a woman, became a wife.

    Dreams, heart seeds planted by God, put forth tendrils,
    for He was looking down upon you, as you – wide eyed,
    were looking up. Beyond dreams, fairy tales,
    potions, nostrums, mystical remedies,
    wishful thinking and most wretched self deceit,
    hope turned to prayer - God’s thoroughfare.

    Physician’s frigid prophesies, verdicts, edicts rejected and also
    sad – or bitter – unspoken - or not,
    mockings from, paradoxically, - unbelieving believers.
    Oddly, pagans seemed to know miracles were possible,
    that the unknown God could love, create.
    As reporters, - not explainers, we told them all,
    in the faces of laughter, pity, contempt,
    complacent matriarchs and dead religion.

    God saw, laughed with His Angels at naysayers, shook his head,
    their words died, fell to earth while His took wing. Question-,
    “Who is he that speaks, and it comes to pass,
    When the Lord commands it not”?
    Jesus turned his face to you,
    tarrying, smiling.


    “Martha” he said, extending his open right hand, finger pointing,
    “I will do for you this thing.
    This thing you have believed that
    only I could do, and the mouths of the scoffers
    will be shut at the telling."


    Writing, you wrote our firstborn’s name in a book
    long before doctors ever saw you pregnant.
    “And so it came to pass” says His word,
    an earthquake, creative explosion, a few words yet echoing, rumbling,
    still powerful that creative echo.

    So, you became a joyful mother of babies, your own, our own
    after 5143 days of marriage,
    God’s gifts began to arrive……
    Prepaid and exactly on schedule.

    You nurtured, loved, sacrificed, taught, – poured your life into them.
    Tears? Watering with those too, but rippling laughter,
    merriment and joy the more. Certainly no greater love –
    except Jesus’ love – can be, than this;

    laying down your life for others. He said it.
    Rejoice all of your days, for God has blessed you
    with blessings unaccountable.
    Pitiful effort this, since these things can’t be penned
    on the longest scroll, or fathomed through many tellings.


    I, a mere witness of His doings, and as floating,
    carried along on his river of life,
    basking in the Heavenly sunshine of His anointing,
    audience to a grand act of the Creator God Almighty.
    A bowed head and trembling,
    even now, as I reconsider - marvel.


    Martha, I speak for God these words he gave me for you;
    I say to you, that many prophets and righteous men
    have desired to see those things which you see,
    and have not seen them; and to
    hear those things which you hear, and have not heard them”.

    Your dreams were not dreams, but prophesies.
    We know. We bow together before Him
    that lives forever and ever, and brings forth all life. For it is His love,
    encouraging, empowering a Mother’s heart.
    Your heart.

    Your Husband, Frank
     
  2. Very nice! I especially liked these verses:

    God saw, laughed with His Angels at naysayers, shook his head,
    their words died, fell to earth while His took wing. Question-,

    “Who is he that speaks, and it comes to pass,
    When the Lord commands it not”?
    Jesus turned his face to you,
    tarrying, smiling.


    You nurtured, loved, sacrificed, taught, – poured your life into them.
    Tears? Watering with those too, but rippling laughter,

    merriment and joy the more. Certainly no greater love –
    except Jesus’ love – can be, than this;

    laying down your life for others. He said it.
    Rejoice all of your days, for God has blessed you
    with blessings unaccountable.
    Pitiful effort this, since these things can’t be penned
    on the longest scroll, or fathomed through many tellings.


    :):):)
     

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