My Mothers Eyes

When I was very young, I wrote a poem based off of the pain and suffering that I could see through my birth mothers eyes. It talked about them being cold, and in agony. It rhymed about how I saw myself through them, as I get my big brown eyes (and all of my physical appearances, really) from her.

After my mother had begun to let just the idea of Jesus into her heart, we were remembering and reflecting on that poem, and she understandingly exclaimed her displeasure of it. I no longer have that poem in my possession, and we have both fortunately forgotten the exact words. But I decided to let God lead me into writing a sequel in 2017. Really it shouldn't be known as the sequel, but it should be known for declaring and setting forth the prayer from her daughters heart, that led Jesus to finally be invited into hers.

Eyes so cold, it once was said,

blind to any hope ahead.

Who was I to claim what is,

through such assertive final lens?

It was my own distorted vision,

my flesh concluding with decision.

To see through eyes that were my own,

forgetting You upon Your throne.

The way You love Your precious daughter,

You saw her face and chose the slaughter.

The truest love, without condition,

gaining her heart as Your one mission.

You saw her pain, but her eyes weren't cold.

Her heart is worth much more than gold.

You have a plan and You love her so,

In her confusion, you never let go.

Her journey has seemed so, so long,

You'll take her life and make a song.

Your promises, You tear the veil.

You make her new, You never fail.

I was incredibly blessed enough to lead my mother in praying the prayer of asking Jesus to come into her heart and life, just last year in 2019. I’m also forever grateful for the beautiful, transparent and loyal relationship that my Mom and I have. It’s a true gift from God after all we have been through individually, and together. We may have spent years apart, physically, but she has been a mother to me in every way a mother could be. An ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, without judgment, and with a full heart of unconditional understanding. I’m proud to be so much like her, and I will never forget what God has done in bringing us so close together. Thank you Father, thank you.

Prayers for anyone who is out there still believing for any lost family member.

Lifting you and your loved ones up, in the precious all knowing name of Jesus.

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*I ask for grace in my writings that you may read, kindly remembering that I will be in the midst of my sanctification. I also ask that you always turn to Scripture yourself before taking my words for it.