Moms,
Memories are amazing things aren’t they? I love looking at pictures of my children on Mother’s Day. I like to look back and reflect on all of those minutes on this journey that have taught and grown me as a mother.
It’s Mother’s Day. Today we are going to be praised and treasured for all that we do in our homes and for our families. I want to challenge us all while we are soaking up the love, to remember the one who gave us energy to do all that we do. I want us all to remember Jesus. While you reflect on all you’ve done and been for your family, try to remember Him an all that he’s done and been for you.
In this post I will share a poem that I wrote. It requires some imagination and it isn’t anything you’ll find in your Bible. However, I hope it will inspire you while you’re scanning your scrapbooks to crack open the word of God and meditate on the memories of Mary’s Son. Happy Mother’s Day!
Mary’s Scrapbook
by Heather Randall
Imagine for a moment
If you can stretch your mind this far
To the day three foreign wise men
Went following a star.
If we could get a camera to Mary on that day
What story would those ancient pictures say?
And if she made a scrapbook
Of all the time her Son had spent
Loving everybody in all the places that He went
Where would she begin? What might be the end?
It may be a silly question,
But for a moment let’s pretend . . .
She opens her book with a Mother’s look
And a smile that she can’t hide
For as she remembers Him
Her heart bubbles up inside.
With the pictures before her
She can’t help but recall
Her first glimpse of the Savior in a Bethlehem stall.
Pages 1-5 are of His birth
When He was laid in hay.
And cover a few years more when she thought He’d run away.
Through the streets she’d search and pace
A worried look placed on her face.
Until she found Him safe and sound
His words were drawing quite a crowd.
There the pages start to glisten
And I can’t help but sit and listen
As her pride begins to glow
The following pages she’s eager to show.
Water into wine.
Healing the blind.
Feeding fish to a crowd.
Walking on water while waves roll loud.
There is no denying it
As a mother, she feels proud.
The camera didn’t come on the day at Calvary,
When sorrow pierced her Mother’s heart
As Jesus died upon that tree.
Yet, the book doesn’t end when he died for her and I
For on the following page,
The Savior is rising into the sky.
Then the book begins to grow
Millions of pages left to show
Pages her eyes would never see
Of early saint right up to you and me.
There are pictures of people who were blessed because
They’d been saved by her son’s love.
And if you think that it ends there
There is still more this Mom can share.
Picture empty pages crisp and white
Waiting for a future sight,
When clouds will part and trumpets roar
And in the clouds with Him we’ll soar.
Imagine for a moment, if you can stretch your mind this far,
To the day our Savior comes again
Shining brighter than a star.
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