‘Twas a Sunday like many others that had come and gone before.
Off to church before the others so I could unlock the doors.
But this Sunday morning’s different and now I must tell,
Of why it stands out from the others, and no it’s not the bells.
And it is surely not the weather, though we welcome the relief,
From the sunshine, heat, and dryness that stole spring just like a thief.
But ‘tis the gathering of ladies who have gathered here before.
But this day is so special, that these ladies we adore.
Not because of their dresses or bonnets or a fancy Bile cover,
But because they have answered all so often to the call of “mother”.
For once each year we thank them for their service to their young,
Through diapers, coughs, and illness—or, “Just stick out your tongue.”
And for lunches packed in brown bags or a Power Rangers box,
And for seeing me through the measles or maybe, chicken pox.
And helping me with homework that you tried to make such fun.
But forgot the rolls were in the oven and were they ever done.
Mothers come in by the dozens to worship God above.
They never come alone, but walking hand in hand with love.
And they will stand and we will cheer them but that’s not why they came.
Though this day belongs to them, they come for the glory of the Name!
Yes, ‘tis the name of Jesus that calls these mothers here.
And above all the love they’ve shown, ‘tis his they hold most dear.
And when they needed strength keeping children upon his way,
So richly he provided then and now blesses this Mother’s Day.