My Mother’s Hands


My Mother's Hands (1)Today is my mother’s birthday. How can I honor a mother such as mine? Never adequately. I can only share some of what she give to me and attempt to follow her example of loving God and people. One of the lessons she taught me with her life was, “No tangible gift received is too valuable to share with someone in need.” Below is prose I wrote in 2014 as part of an online writing community. I hope it will give you a sense of my mother. Happy Birthday, Mom.

By the time I knew her, brought into this world through her womb and love, the Father’s and my parents, her hands were worn.

I never saw them with polished nails but I saw them dirtied by labor and washed clean after dishes or laundry.

I never saw them clenched, although I know there were times that she was angry.

I did see them closed in prayer. Oh, how she prayed, not only for her biological children (and there were enough of us to keep her prayer list filled) but also for extended family members, and for neighbors, and for pastors, and missionaries. Oh, how she prayed.

She would often touch my head as she walked by. Sometimes, I would be startled because I was caught up in the books that I devoured regularly. She would speak volumes in her loving touch, without saying a single word.

My mother’s hands. Thankful. Thankful. Thankful.

My father, William

I am thinking of my father, William, this evening before Father’s day. I miss him.

I do not hear the song, “Thanks for staying,” from the album, “He-Motions,” without thinking of him.

He left us twice in my life. The first time was to study in another country for approximately two years. I remember walking with him just about twilight one evening after he returned. I was a little girl still and skipped joyfully to keep up with his long strides, happy to be walking with my Daddy.

The second time he left, he had no choice. God, the Father, called him home.

We will walk together again, Dad. Until then, thank you for loving me with everything you had in you. Heavenly Father, thank you for blessing me with my Dad.

Sharing the lyrics and a link to a video of, “Thanks for staying,” below.


[Verse 1:]

When a shooting star falls
All the world looks in awe
It seems so amazing
But falling stars don’t shine
They have no place in the sky
We forget about the ones still hanging

Falling is easy
Standing takes strength
You have remained my star
And I want to thank you for staying
And not leaving for
Never taking the easy way out
For loving and always showing me
What being a father is all about

[Verse 2:]
I see you everywhere
You’re the old man in a chair
Sharing his wisdom
You’re the coach and the teacher
You’re the hero and leader
For ever we’ll applaud who you are
And what you’ve done


And you never left me though you could
And just like Gibraltar, you have stood
I’m who I am today
Because you stayed for love

You have remained my star
And I want to thank you
I want to thank you

For staying and not leaving
Thank you for never leaving me
For loving and always showing me
What being a father is all about
For loving me
Always showing me
What being a father is all about
What a father is all about
What a father is all about