She sees her mother struggle to rest… in grace… and she hands me earbuds and tells me to listen, that I need to hear this song she found.
I listen and request repeat.
My eyes fill up and the peanut butter smearing onto bread goes a bit fuzzy.
She tells me it is a new day and that I need to remember to see it that way;
A fresh start.
Turn the page…
on yesterday…
… last week,
last month,
last year…
on all of it.
I marvel at how God’s wisdom spills from her fourteen year old mouth;
And wrecks a good kind of havoc on the shadow that has hovered lately.
So quickly it dispels the darkness that has wrapped itself around my head.
Her smile is infectious and her eyes dance along to the melody echoing in her heart: praises to her Jesus.
The wheels go round and the next song plays and He reminds me of how I prayed that He would grow her into a beautiful soul, despite my lack of skill in mothering and nurturing.
And I see Him working in her heart and spirit.
I am filled with thankfulness that she thinks clearly and stands firmly in her confidence in her Jesus;
the one who says she ‘is to die for’.
Oh, yes, she is and oh, yes, He did.
(To watch the video, pause the music player at the top of this page just under the menu bar.)
If you can’t see the video, click on over here.
Linking up with Emily today. Click on over and read the other Imperfect Prose on “Mother”.

2 responses to “Ministering to Her Mother -Imperfect Prose”
I think perhaps I have learned more from the mouths of my children than any other source. He uses them to shape us doesn’t he? Hand over mouth wonder and awe as a mama.
Yes and sadly I miss that opportunity to clamp it shut and listen and miss the moment. Pleading with God to help me have more discernment in this area especially.
And isn’t it from the mouths of our children that we often get corrected by the Lord. They say something and in my head I start to complain or criticize and the Holy Spirit quietly points out, “hey that was you just the other day mom.” Thank you for stopping by and commenting Shelly.