Mama's Thread

A young Mama bows her head at night,
Into her children, she weaves her love.
The threads, they glisten with her tears,
Encircling and enfolding each one.

A daughter, broken, falls to her knees
And calls out to God for help;
Her wayward path has run its course,
She’s tired of relying on herself.

Her Mama’s tears rejoice,
As God’s faithfulness presents;
His goodness reaches far beyond,
His grace, He then extends.

Her golden threads, they swell with prayer,
For family, love and confidence;
Her children rise up and embrace the gift,
Of unconditional love and assurance.

Arms extended, years have passed,
In a chapel, quiet and darkened;
A grandchild reaches to God in worship,
Her praises glorious, but uncertain.

Mama’s tears rejoice,
As God’s faithfulness presents;
His goodness reaches far beyond,
His grace, He then extends.

Though the fragrance of her love may fade,
And the threads of her life may fray;
Her golden threads are woven tight,
Her gift of love remains.

Blessed is the Mama,
Whose tears and strength have bound;
Her cherished family to themselves,
May God’s grace and love, continue to be found.

Heidi Carson 09/03/02