A Blessing for Mothers

BLESSINGS on the hand of women! 
       

Angels guard its strength and grace. 
    

In the palace, cottage, hovel, 
         

Oh, no matter where the place; 
     

Would that never storms assailed it, 
         

Rainbows ever gently curled, 
     

For the hand that rocks the cradle 
         

Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain, 
         

Power may with beauty flow, 
     

Mothers first to guide the streamlets, 
         

From them souls unresting grow— 
     

Grow on for the good or evil, 
         

Sunshine streamed or evil hurled, 
     

For the hand that rocks the cradle 
         

Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission, 
         

Here upon our natal sod; 
     

Keep—oh, keep the young heart open 
         

Always to the breath of God! 
     

All true trophies of the ages 
         

Are from mother-love impearled, 
     

For the hand that rocks the cradle 
         

Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women! 
         

Fathers, sons, and daughters cry, 
     

And the sacred song is mingled 
         

With the worship in the sky— 
     

Mingles where no tempest darkens, 
         

Rainbows evermore are hurled; 
     

For the hand that rocks the cradle 
         

Is the hand that rules the world.*

Beautiful, isn’t it? 

On a day to honor mothers, so many emotions … I had a long talk with my young high school friend whose mom chose to leave this world last June.  It was her first Mother’s Day without her mum.   Sad.  Vacant. 

On the other end of the spectrum is my 27-year-old daughter, Amy, who is expecting her first child, a boy, in August.  Coming together for a Mother’s Day lunch with two of my sons, I sat across that table from her and thought, ‘Oh my goodness… she is just beautiful!’  Indeed she is - so happy … so expectant!  Not to be cliché, but she really is radiant.

Then there is my friend on the opposite coast who is experiencing her first Mother’s Day without her dear husband.  Though Joe is a new resident in Heaven, her day looks quite different, and she is adjusting to a ‘new normal’. 

Others of you travel to be with your mums, thinking there might not be many left.  And still some readers long to be mothers someday, not knowing if that day will come.  Yes, so many emotions …

This is my seventh Mother’s Day without my mom, though I imagine there is a celebration of some sort in Heaven.  See Jesus really loved and honored his mother.  Even when suffering from the cross, Jesus looked down at Mary, and gave her over to the care of John – one of his last thoughts before dying.

Mothers are the first keepers of young souls … they shape and mold and hold and love that which is eternal.  Some excel … all struggle, to a lesser or greater degree.    “Lord God, for mothers who influence, I pray that you would bless them with your wisdom and compassion, that they might love as you love.  For those who have been hurt my mothers who have been ‘less than’, O God, won’t you mother them?  Such need we have of you, dear Father.  Come and impart yourself to each of us … make up for whence we lack, heal where brokenness exists, and lend your love   to all.   Amen.”

 Christine

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