Bless you, dear 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.²

Beautiful, isn’t it? 

This is my eighth Mother’s Day without my mom, and I am wondering if there is a celebration of some sort in Heaven.  Remember how Jesus loved and honored his mother?  Even while suffering on the cross, Jesus looked down at Mary, and asked John to take care of her – 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 whose influence is so great, 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 by 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.   In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”