My mom turned 85 this February.
A few days before her birthday this year, I awakened with this thought on my mind: Angels know her name.
When this happens to me, I usually write a poem or a song. This time was no exception.
The following is my tribute to my mom on her 85th birthday.
The Psalms encourage us to rejoice in the "handiwork" of God.
In this tribute, I am rejoicing in His handiwork - my mom.
If this tribute reminds you of your mom, rejoice along with me.
Angels Know Her Name
Angels know her name and rejoice in the handiwork of God.
Come . . .
Read her story . . .
You too will rejoice . . .
Eighty-something years ago,
God, in secret, created something precious,
chose her to be a special treasure.
Hidden in her mother's womb,
He carefully knit together all her delicate parts
into a beautiful little creature He called His own.
She was . . . is
beautifully and wonderfully made,
complex and marvelous in His sight . . . and in ours.
He knew her,
and she knew Him.
Every moment of her life was written in His book.
How precious are His thoughts, His love for her.
Come . . .
Read her story . . .
You too will rejoice . . .
Daughter of proud parents . . .
Sister full of compassion and love and responsibility . . .
Wife, virtuous and capable,
faithful companion through all of life,
more valuable than any precious gem . . .
Mother whose children love and bless her
and appreciate her example . . .
Grandmother, laughing and loving,
proud and strong . . .
Funloving aunt and friend of many . . .
Friend of God who loves and fears her Redeemer King . . .
These are but a few of the names by which she is known.
Come . . .
Read her story . . .
You too will rejoice . . .
As she has fearlessly trusted in Him
who crafted her tiniest eyelash,
who listens to her every whisper,
who wipes away her tears,
who knows every beat of her heart,
who speaks peace to her every fear,
she enriches the lives of everyone around her
bringing them good and not harm.
Her strong, busy hands are quick to serve
anyway, anywhere, anyone.
In all these faces, she sees the most important face of all -
the face of God.
In all these places, she hears the most important heart -
the heart of God.
It is He who has filled her heart with passion, love, compassion,
purpose, and worship.
Her whole life is an act of worship to Him
who holds her heart in His hands.
She's not perfect
and has had her share of disappointments and failures,
but through them all her heart and eyes were His.
She is precious in His sight,
His treasure . . . and ours,
and He loves her with an everlasting love.
Come . . .
Read her story . . .
You too will rejoice . . .
One day, she will meet Him face to face
and will finally know all as she has been known.
Until then, no eye has seen or heard
everything else the Lord has for her.
We rejoice in her journey thus far and in her journeys to come.
May she go farther up and farther in, farther than ever before.
Angels know her name and rejoice in the handiwork of God.
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