If I'm not sure of who I am,
I just need to look at you.
You're the kind of person I'd like to be...
One who strives to be like Jesus.
I won't compare your beauty to that Rose,
Although I've seen you display God's grace
when life handed you thorns.
No, your humility would not allow it.
Instead I will just remind you, Mom,
that even a little green sprig is celebrated
in a sun-scorched desert.
Yes, you are a sign of living water
in a land of thirsty hearts and souls.
I won't compare your strength to a mighty tree,
although you've shaded many weary people,
in the healing leaves of your prayers;
and fed them by the fruits of the Spirit
abundantly growing from He Who dwells within you.
Instead I will remind you, Mom,
that all it takes is a few broken twigs
to create a storm-sheltering nest.
And the faith of a little mustard seed
moves God's heart to produce miracles.
And I won't compare your loving heart
to all the mothers' hearts of the world,
because you have the heart
of the loving Heavenly Father.
I love you, Mom,
the way you have taught me to love,
With the love of the Lord.
Credits: Melanie Cummings