When I wanted to understand the sacred, as I searched, it was in the
company of my mother that I knew it and it marked me. Knew it the way
truth has power. I watched her hands as she lovingly made a meal for my
dad; it was not the conversation—we spoke of incidentals—but my soul
was searching, my intellect filled and alert (I had been reading Saint
Benedict’s Tool Box and One Thousand Gifts). It was not what she said
that day, or even what she did, it was how she did it.
Ever have time slow? Slow and the light pool on something and you see it for the first time, even though you may have seen the same thing a million times. But when you see, you see. I saw with spiritual eyes wide open the act of love in her hands in simple preparation of a meal. She placed the cucumbers and tomatoes and lettuce with her hands so lovingly, that it took my breath. The simple timeless act of preparing a meal, sacred. Holy. That revelation of the sacred, a priceless gift.
I have never spoken of it, until now. Now when I know that she has fed the multitude with her meager loaves and fishes. A priceless gift.
She can swaddle a baby, and wean a child. I am a weaned child who has known the safety and security of being nourished and contented in love. My children were swaddled in blankets made by Mother’s hands. My grandchildren were swaddled in blankets made by my Mother's hands. My mother sang us to life.
A priceless gift.
The way to get six children quiet? Sing. I cannot remember when I could not hear my mother’s singing. I hear it now as I write: my mother’s song. A priceless gift. From her I learned God sings over us.
There’s the time she upped and moved to Virginia and I was at a crossroads in my life; I felt abandonment bone deep but then I found something she left for me. I have it still. A cassette tape of her singing every hymn and song of praise she could fit on a long running tape. When I listened to the Old Story of Jesus and His love, I knew I was not and never would be abandoned. She made it for me; she did not tell me she was making it, but I found it just when I needed it most. Lullabies, how did she know I would need it? A priceless gift.
Like the time she sent me to the grocery store. I was about 18 and tired of helping out, and she was so particular about what kind of corn meal and which brand of beans and exactly which type of toilet paper to buy and I was feeling put out. I went down the list and there it was, “I love you, my beautiful one” and I stopped stilled and tears flowed down my cheeks and I felt bad for feeling put out and elated at the same time and I knew. It was not just an item on a long list of things; her love for me was imprinted upon me and that memory remains a rare and beautiful moment in a life time of moments that become more precious AND are eternal. A priceless gift.
She giggles and when she giggles it is pure mirth. She has giggled like that forever, at least as long as I’ve known her. She is a happy mother of many children. When I ponder my Mother’s happiness and realize that is what girded our souls and prepared us, gave life to us.
She loves my Dad, they were made for each other. I was conceived, God said to me, “Out of the intense passionate love of those two young people,” That was His plan for me to come into this world, as me. A priceless gift. I have lived in the shade of their love of each other and of the LORD and of us.
I learned that truly God prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies from my mother and I learned how to bless my enemies and to do good to those who despitefully use you from my mother and I learned how to overcome evil with good from my mother. And I learned that you could wear clothes from Kmart or clothes from Sakes Fifth Avenue with the same grace and flair and I learned that people really could not tell the difference from my mother and if they could, well, what difference did that make. A priceless gift.
She loves to laugh. She knows, bone deep, that laughter is the best medicine. She lives that and shares that with many who are privileged to know her. Brevity is one of her many strengths. A priceless gift.
I asked her one time what attracted her to Dad and she said it was his voice; isn’t that just like the Shunamite woman in the Song of Solomon?
I seen her sing and the anchor hold because she sang. I will hear her sing it forever. A priceless gift
I cannot tell about Christmas and all I learned from her. That a flannel shirts and a toy wrapped for a child are priceless gifts – a privilege. Believing--A priceless gift. It is her spirit, united with Christ, and has taught us that Christmas has a reason and a purpose in our lives--we are celebrating life and the light bringer in spirit and in truth and it is liturgy (worship) in my Mother’s home. All who enter know it. A sense of the sacred.
Good literature and thinking and math is not really that hard; my mother is a mathematician. Everything multiplies in her hands. She’s like Jesus like that. A priceless gift.
She cooks a simple pot of beans and it’s like manna from heaven. When I graduated from high school, she gave me a card that told me if I could believe, all things were possible.
When I was needing her attention and she was busy with life and giving out and serving God and family; the LORD put me in a place to receive a deep revelation; as I went out in the Spirit, the LORD showed me scene after scene when my Mother’s hands were busy with babies and cooking and being that Biblical example of a Godly woman. All through my childhood and adulthood, although her hands may have been busy with the younger kids, and though she was about the Father’s business, in her heart she was aware of me and of my needs and she entrusted me in prayer to the LORD time and time again. God showed me her heart for me, though busy with life in a big family, she never stopped thinking of me and what I might need. God healed my heart by showing me my Mother’s heart of love for me; I was out in the Spirit receiving vision after vision scenes from our lives where my Mother’s heart was focused on me, though her hands were busy with other. A priceless gift.
When the storms would come, my mother gathers us under her wings like a great Eagle, often huddles us together with her until the storms pass. I was prone to fly right into the storm and this scared her and she scolded me back safety more than once. We learned the shelter and protection unity brings when the days are dark.
As the oldest, I learned to prefer others before me and I learned the joy of serving. I learned to be another set of hands for her in the kitchen at her side. Working in unity, doing what needed to be done; the gift of serving and being of service. She trained me to serve God, to be his hands, and His heart in service to others. Learning the principle of preferring others before me, I learned her. I been surprised by my Mother; like the time I came in and caught her picking out the notes of a song on the piano. I did not know she could play; unaware of my presence, she played a pure melody, one note at the time—a song of worship to the LORD. A priceless gift indelibly replicated on my heart.
My mother is a musician; and her gift of music has been imparted to generations in her family and in her church. She is a maestro conductor.
Corporateness, I learned from my mother and that nothing is as godly and pleasing to the LORD as family is. My mother grows family, she always will, forever. So many, so many know her love and devotion to the LORD, her church. Family is church and the church is those who know her, have experienced her, because ultimately to know my mom is to be included in the beloved, the church of the living God. A priceless gift.
I learned that all of life is sacred from my Mother, from the
smallest act to the largest act: all is sacred, all is love.
My mother is a church--a feast of the Word. Betty Hyatt Worden, you are priceless gift of love. I learned that all of life is sacred from the
smallest act to the largest act: all is sacred, all is love.
I love you, my beautiful one.
Thank you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.
You are God’s Song and He sings over me.
Ever have time slow? Slow and the light pool on something and you see it for the first time, even though you may have seen the same thing a million times. But when you see, you see. I saw with spiritual eyes wide open the act of love in her hands in simple preparation of a meal. She placed the cucumbers and tomatoes and lettuce with her hands so lovingly, that it took my breath. The simple timeless act of preparing a meal, sacred. Holy. That revelation of the sacred, a priceless gift.
I have never spoken of it, until now. Now when I know that she has fed the multitude with her meager loaves and fishes. A priceless gift.
She can swaddle a baby, and wean a child. I am a weaned child who has known the safety and security of being nourished and contented in love. My children were swaddled in blankets made by Mother’s hands. My grandchildren were swaddled in blankets made by my Mother's hands. My mother sang us to life.
A priceless gift.
The way to get six children quiet? Sing. I cannot remember when I could not hear my mother’s singing. I hear it now as I write: my mother’s song. A priceless gift. From her I learned God sings over us.
There’s the time she upped and moved to Virginia and I was at a crossroads in my life; I felt abandonment bone deep but then I found something she left for me. I have it still. A cassette tape of her singing every hymn and song of praise she could fit on a long running tape. When I listened to the Old Story of Jesus and His love, I knew I was not and never would be abandoned. She made it for me; she did not tell me she was making it, but I found it just when I needed it most. Lullabies, how did she know I would need it? A priceless gift.
Like the time she sent me to the grocery store. I was about 18 and tired of helping out, and she was so particular about what kind of corn meal and which brand of beans and exactly which type of toilet paper to buy and I was feeling put out. I went down the list and there it was, “I love you, my beautiful one” and I stopped stilled and tears flowed down my cheeks and I felt bad for feeling put out and elated at the same time and I knew. It was not just an item on a long list of things; her love for me was imprinted upon me and that memory remains a rare and beautiful moment in a life time of moments that become more precious AND are eternal. A priceless gift.
She giggles and when she giggles it is pure mirth. She has giggled like that forever, at least as long as I’ve known her. She is a happy mother of many children. When I ponder my Mother’s happiness and realize that is what girded our souls and prepared us, gave life to us.
She loves my Dad, they were made for each other. I was conceived, God said to me, “Out of the intense passionate love of those two young people,” That was His plan for me to come into this world, as me. A priceless gift. I have lived in the shade of their love of each other and of the LORD and of us.
I learned that truly God prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies from my mother and I learned how to bless my enemies and to do good to those who despitefully use you from my mother and I learned how to overcome evil with good from my mother. And I learned that you could wear clothes from Kmart or clothes from Sakes Fifth Avenue with the same grace and flair and I learned that people really could not tell the difference from my mother and if they could, well, what difference did that make. A priceless gift.
She loves to laugh. She knows, bone deep, that laughter is the best medicine. She lives that and shares that with many who are privileged to know her. Brevity is one of her many strengths. A priceless gift.
I asked her one time what attracted her to Dad and she said it was his voice; isn’t that just like the Shunamite woman in the Song of Solomon?
I seen her sing and the anchor hold because she sang. I will hear her sing it forever. A priceless gift
I cannot tell about Christmas and all I learned from her. That a flannel shirts and a toy wrapped for a child are priceless gifts – a privilege. Believing--A priceless gift. It is her spirit, united with Christ, and has taught us that Christmas has a reason and a purpose in our lives--we are celebrating life and the light bringer in spirit and in truth and it is liturgy (worship) in my Mother’s home. All who enter know it. A sense of the sacred.
Good literature and thinking and math is not really that hard; my mother is a mathematician. Everything multiplies in her hands. She’s like Jesus like that. A priceless gift.
She cooks a simple pot of beans and it’s like manna from heaven. When I graduated from high school, she gave me a card that told me if I could believe, all things were possible.
When I was needing her attention and she was busy with life and giving out and serving God and family; the LORD put me in a place to receive a deep revelation; as I went out in the Spirit, the LORD showed me scene after scene when my Mother’s hands were busy with babies and cooking and being that Biblical example of a Godly woman. All through my childhood and adulthood, although her hands may have been busy with the younger kids, and though she was about the Father’s business, in her heart she was aware of me and of my needs and she entrusted me in prayer to the LORD time and time again. God showed me her heart for me, though busy with life in a big family, she never stopped thinking of me and what I might need. God healed my heart by showing me my Mother’s heart of love for me; I was out in the Spirit receiving vision after vision scenes from our lives where my Mother’s heart was focused on me, though her hands were busy with other. A priceless gift.
When the storms would come, my mother gathers us under her wings like a great Eagle, often huddles us together with her until the storms pass. I was prone to fly right into the storm and this scared her and she scolded me back safety more than once. We learned the shelter and protection unity brings when the days are dark.
As the oldest, I learned to prefer others before me and I learned the joy of serving. I learned to be another set of hands for her in the kitchen at her side. Working in unity, doing what needed to be done; the gift of serving and being of service. She trained me to serve God, to be his hands, and His heart in service to others. Learning the principle of preferring others before me, I learned her. I been surprised by my Mother; like the time I came in and caught her picking out the notes of a song on the piano. I did not know she could play; unaware of my presence, she played a pure melody, one note at the time—a song of worship to the LORD. A priceless gift indelibly replicated on my heart.
My mother is a musician; and her gift of music has been imparted to generations in her family and in her church. She is a maestro conductor.
Corporateness, I learned from my mother and that nothing is as godly and pleasing to the LORD as family is. My mother grows family, she always will, forever. So many, so many know her love and devotion to the LORD, her church. Family is church and the church is those who know her, have experienced her, because ultimately to know my mom is to be included in the beloved, the church of the living God. A priceless gift.
I learned that all of life is sacred from my Mother, from the
smallest act to the largest act: all is sacred, all is love.
My mother is a church--a feast of the Word. Betty Hyatt Worden, you are priceless gift of love. I learned that all of life is sacred from the
smallest act to the largest act: all is sacred, all is love.
I love you, my beautiful one.
Thank you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.
You are God’s Song and He sings over me.
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