May 11, 2013

A Mother's Day Poem

Loving Mothers
by Victoria Brake

When I would cry, in the night,
she'd know that something wasn't right.
She'd race right in and fix it fast.
Only mama could do that.

She knew just what I liked to eat,
took care of each and every need.
Made sure that I was warm enough,
but not too hot in summer months.

That time I fell, at the park.
That time when someone broke my heart.
She knew just what to do and say,
knew how to take the pain away.

Shoes got tied, and beds got made.
Teeth got brushed, and bills got paid.
Funny how I thought back then,
that things like that would just happen.

Then I grew up and moved away,
but still remember to this day.
The way she loved so tenderly,
the way she shaped and molded me.

Correction came with gentle grace,
at times when I'd forget my place.
Praise, it came abundantly.
She showered it so lovingly.

And I'm a mama now, you see.
Now I can see things differently.
It turns out beds don't make themselves,
and someone has to stock the shelves.

These days I work so hard it seems,
and very little praise it gleans.
When I grow restless in my life,
I think of mama's sacrifice.

With joy she served her family,
without complaining selfishly.
By great example she did lead.
Now it's my turn, Lord guide me.

Help me remember as I go,
I'm shaping little lives, also.
What seems like work that's very small,
isn't really that at all.

I'll strive to labor with a smile.
Remembering that in a short while,
my time with them from dusk to dawn...
before I know it will be gone.


The greatest job, that one can know,
is one that's done, within a home.
A place where love and grace abound,
where compassion can be found.

She quietly writes a mighty story,
not receiving fame and glory.
Author to many wondrous works,
not written down with ink in books.

But in the heart of her child,
that's where her legacy is filed.
A name more blessed than any other.


May 4, 2013

Little Hands, Little Man

There were several readers who asked if I would create a version of the poem that I posted a few days ago, that would be more applicable to little boys. So... I did a little rewording and here ya go!

Little Hands, Little Man
by Victoria Brake

Little hands to hold so tight.
Hair to comb, and tears to wipe.
Little feet that grow so fast.
Teeth to brush and bedtime baths.
Little cups that must be filled.
Teething rings that must be chilled.
Clothes that come in green and blue.
Doing things boys love to do.
Time is fleeting, oh so fast.
What was just here, is now the past.

Little hands that needed me.
Now need me less, I start to see.
He ties his shoes and combs his hair.
Picks out his clothes, knows what to wear.
We hunt for bugs and play with cars.
Draw pictures of the moon and stars.
We're at the park, we play pretend.
He tells me I'm his favorite friend.
Who, what, when, where, why and how?
He needs to know these things right now.
So full of life, so full of love.
This gift sent from the Lord above.

He's older now, my little man.
No need for him to hold my hand.
Fishing, camping, baseball games.
Collecting worms after it rains.
Each night I ask the Lord above,
to help me teach him how to love.
There's so much that he needs to know,
and I'm still learning as I go.
Please, Lord... PLEASE help me get this right.
I beg, as I lose sleep at night.
Precious soul, undefiled.
Lord, guide me as I raise this child.

What just happened? Can it be?
My little boy is now a teen.
I stock the fridge to keep him fed.
Make sure he still fits in his bed.
Try not to let my worry show.
This happened fast, where did time go?
Help me to listen patiently.
As I instruct him, Lord guide me.
May my words be gentle and kind.
Loving, sincere, pure and wise.
His time at home, will soon be gone.
It sure did fly, but it was fun.

His bags are packed and by the door.
He's off to face a whole new world.
It seems like only yesterday,
as I would rock him… he would say.
Just one more story, pretty please?
Please would you read one more to me?
Then I would tuck him in his bed,
and kiss him on his precious head.
No more karate, no more ball.
No more measurements on the wall.
Today he'll leave this cozy nest,
and spread his wings, and give his best.

Five years later, this handsome man,
will take a wife and give his hand.
A beautiful bride, for my son.
I've prayed for her since he was one.
Thank you Lord, for hearing me.
For growing now, our family tree.
Two young lives will now be one.
A new love story has begun.

Two years later, waiting room.
A child will be here very soon.
Tiny bundle, wrapped in blue.
My boy, he knows just what to do.
He holds his son so tenderly.
An instant bond that I can see.
I run my hand through baby's hair.
The tears they fall, without a care.
His child held gently on his chest.
The years ahead will be his best.
It's true, he may not know it yet.
But he will soon, that I can bet.

Little hands to hold so tight.
Hair to comb and tears to wipe.

Share this poem with the other mamas in your life! Time flies!

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Link to original poem (GIRL VERSION):

May 3, 2013


"Purpose is found in those quiet moments, when no one but God sees the work of your hands."
-Darlene Schacht

Why do you do what you do? Is it because your husband and children stand on the sidelines and cheer you on as you sit at your desk, fold laundry, and cook dinner? Probably not, huh? Most of us get up and feed our kids breakfast in the morning because we love them, not because there is a "Mother of the Year" trophy on the line. Furthermore, I'd guess that few of us wait by the dishwasher each night expecting a round of applause after the last dish is put away. 

Even when it feels as though much of what you do goes unnoticed, take joy in knowing that you are fulfilling a mighty role in your home. One that is filled with great purpose. Be encouraged today that you are shaping the lives of your children, building precious memories for them. Every small task, every simple detail that you tend to is creating for them a place of peace and comfort. 

  Do yo know another wife or mama who could use some encouragement? Share this post to pass some on!