Her Honor
In those moments when I live at the edge where
the lamp light gives out I confess a fear that my
words will never amount to a hill of beans and
ultimately be drowned in the din of the world.
Then, unbidden, her voice comes to me gentle as
rain, twice as blessed: ‘You must make them one
after the other until they come out right. They will.’
So I steel myself and step back into the warm to
keep the first commandment with promise, to
honor my mother with high hopes that my words
might come out right and be long upon the land.
I love this, as I’ve loved all of your words I’ve read…. And I am a mother, blessed.
Your achievements are lasting because they go into our hearts.
So glad to have read this today. I’m thankful for this voice that continues to encourage in your mind and heart, and I’m inspired to be this voice for my four babies. So much love to you, and blessings, Friend, upon your every word.
A very nice and very warm tribute to your mother. It made me think of my Mom. Thank you!!
You honor your mother every day.
And they do.
Be assured. Your words come out right. Thanks for that.
Well, amen. And you already do honor her, with every word you pen.
And here I am, crying at my desk again, because of your words. Bless it.
So true that the voice of our mother continues to encourage us long after they are gone. Thank for this post. On the eve of the 11th anniversary of my mother’s passing, it means much to me.
JOHN —
Absolutely lovely. I am living in the same spot just now, with my mother’s illness, and your words mean much to me.
NAMASTE —
R. Benson
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