Mom is an Open Letter | Poem
We are approaching the day marked on our calendars as "Mother's Day", and I am reminded not only of what the day means to us, but also of the daily struggles, the hidden tears, the joy and grief, the frustrations and disappointments, the heartaches and love, the kindness, gentleness and patience that are all summed up in one word: Mother.
As you read the poem below I hope you too also remember and realize that for our moms, Mother's Day is every single day of the year.
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Mom is an Open Letter
I am an open letter.
My children keenly read me.
They try to speak like Mother
My remarks they copy.
My children keenly read me.
They try to speak like Mother
My remarks they copy.
They watch my responses and deeds,
Notice acts of kindness or greed.
They catch on my attitudes
Of complaint or gratitude.
I hear echoes of my own words,
Mom's reactions they'll absorb.
They follow me around all day,
And record all words that I say.
As I treat them, so they'll others treat.
Is their imitation cross or sweet?
If my toddlers' only Bible I am,
"Oh, God...how shall I as human?"
It nearly drives me to fear,
To be observed so very near.
I tremble to see small shadows,
Who daily my footsteps follow;
What if they discover all my flaws,
And display the guilt of broken laws?
"Jesus, become alive in my heart,
So my littles ones may see Your cleansing pow'r.
Work through me, make me an example,
Showing how God's children shall live.
Teaching: mistakes are forgivable,
And abundant grace You will give.
I pray they'll get a correct view
What is wrong and right in Your eyes;
Witness my fellowship with You,
Then Your goodness they'll realize."
Let my life be pure, no shame to hide.
Privileged to be an open book.
I'm blessed with children at my side,
Raising little ones that learn and look.
If by my deeds my children read me,
Then a true letter I want to be.
I desire to be a clean page daily,
Nothing to hide when they copy me.
I'm grateful for the opportunity
That God lends these precious souls to me,
To influence their moldable hearts gently,
Pointing them to the heav'nly destiny.
Truly motherhood is a high calling,
Walking through life with my heart exposed,
My motives and weakness revealing;
Small footprints following up close;
Children soaking up my speech,
Lessons of trust to me they teach.
The thought compels me to dig deeper,
Inspires me to follow Christ closer.
Poem by
Colleen Schroeder