M is for….
taught me a song to sing for Mother’s Day at church when I was 8
years old. The lyrics meant little to me then, but as the years go
by, a different picture of Mother comes to my heart. When I was
little, Mother was my sustainer and teacher. From her I learned so
many lessons of life. Lessons that continue to be repeated and
expanded. Lessons that rooted in my heart.
for the Many things she gave me,
mother gave me many life-sustaining gifts, but the greatest gift had
to do with living a spiritual life. Did she think it ‘took’? The
rebellious and impatient spirit of mine must have been difficult for
her to endure. She taught me the importance of truth and love,
giving cheerfully and openly, nudging creative reminders for
obedience and order, appreciation and thirst for beauty. She taught
me to see God’s love all around me. Once she exclaimed over the
delicate beauty of a flower. I asked, “What’s so pretty about it?”
She explained that the fragile hue, the shape and the design were
all created by God. The flower itself was a growing miracle, and the
process was created by the Almighty God. Since then I have marveled
at the tiny details that our Magnificent God creates, not only in
nature, but also in our every day lives.
only that she’s growing Old.
so self-assured and capable, that my Mother growing old came as a
complete surprise. I took her presence and abilities for granted. I
believed she would always be. When she became ill and her
‘exit-lane’ was obvious, I began to grieve through all the stages of
anger and tears. It was difficult saying goodbye, so I didn’t. That
last afternoon, I simply read Psalm 37, one of her favorites to her
until she could no longer hear.
for the Tears she shed to save me,
tears she shed, she never shared with me, yet I knew that her heart
grieved over the error of my ways. Even when she was ill she
reminded me of the way of the Lord through scripture. One day I
vented my impatience in dealing with work. Mother quoted,
“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved,
clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and
patience.” Colossians 3:12
for her Heart of purest gold.
often I saw self-sacrifice as Mother poured herself out for others
without complaining. She traveled the 2nd and 3rd mile,
always doing more than expected. She shared the gifts God had given
her in baking fragrant cinnamon rolls, sewing a dress for a friend,
making a stage-prop airplane for an elementary play for her son,
raising and giving away flowers from her garden to the elderly,
teaching Bible Study lessons around her dining table, playing the
piano for weddings and funerals and the organ for church services.
Always Mother shared her love with her family and others. Nothing
was too large or too small, and always she put her whole heart in the
task at hand. She was dependable, available, gracious and loving.
for her Eyes with love light shining,
three children understood clearly the love-light in her eyes. So
clearly that when we acquired a new Jersey cow, we recognized that
same love Mother had in the cow’s brown doe-ful eyes. Searching for
a suitable name – we knew it had to be Daisy! Mother didn’t seem
to relish sharing her name with a cow. But it seemed fitting to us –
Mom gave and the cow gave! Mother had learned the secret – the more
love you give away, the more it grows.
Right and Right she’ll always be.
had all the answers as we grew up. We questioned her often, but
always accepted her word as the way things should be. We may have
tried to circumvent her ‘right-ness’ at times, but we came to
understand to this day that our Mother was chosen just for us.
I was 4 years old, I refused to submit to well-deserved punishment.
Mother knew just what to say, “Then Dad will spank you when he
comes home.” Using Dad’s razor strap I spent the intervening hours
until his arrival, spanking myself. The punishment I gave myself and
the anticipatory punishment clouds my memory. Did Dad really spank
me later? Mom was right! I was punished.
them all together, They spell MOTHER. A word that means the
world to me.
has been fifteen years since I gave my Mother a Mother’s Day Card or
send her flowers, I remember her with tears of joy and know that
without her Faith in Jesus Christ, she would not have been the
Proverbs 31 Woman that she was for me and my two brothers – Jim and
in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and
enjoy safe pasture. Take delight in the Lord, and he
will give you the desires of your hear. Commit your way to
the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will
make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication
like the noonday sun. Psalm 37:3-6
How did my Mother know how to be a Mother? One of her books of poetry contains a verbal testimony to her Mother, Anna Loewen Suderman. The first line of the last stanza stands out as the secret of being a loving Mom…..And as for me, I praise my Mother’s God!
To My Mother.
When all the evening chores were done, I heard
my Mother read God’s Word before she said,
“Be sure to say your prayers and go to sleep.”
I heard my Mother softly sing to me
of angels winging by to keep their watch
when God turned out the light on one more day.
I saw my Mother weep when children hurt,
and watched her dry their tears, I saw her kneel
in prayer because of my rebellious heart.
I saw her hand knead dough to keep us fed
and water garden flowers to feed her soul.
I saw how God blessed her and that blessed me.
I felt my mother’s pride with conflicts won
but when I never tried, her disappointment
weighed a ton. I often felt her arms
about me when I needed guiding help
I felt secure and safe within her love –
through her, somehow, I felt in touch with God.
I sense my Mother’s stubbornness when hills
she had to climb were steep and temper flared.
Although at times humanity raged on,
I sensed a sweet submission, God’s way won.
She found His peace serenely leading her
across the golden shores when day was done.
And as for me, I praise my Mother’s God
until my final faltering breath has ceased.
This earth may keep my lumpy piece of clay
when angels wing my soul toward heaven’s home.
Anna Daisy Siemens