In Praise of Mother

James H. Cagle
pastorjameshcagle@yahoo.com

The Bible says, “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.” And, “Her children arise up, and call her blessed” (Prov.31: 10, 28).

My mother wasn’t perfect. She was human just like the rest of us. She had her faults to, but I have nothing but praise for her.

My mother grew up in Bemiss, GA. She went to Pine Grove school. She played on the women’s basketball team. She graduated from school, and soon after married.

Being a mother was a full time job with my mother. She had eight children, and anybody knows looking out for eight children is a full time job. That meant she also had eight dish-washers in the house. She had a crew for picking, shelling, shucking, steaming, and putting away all manner of vegetables. She had a crew for hanging out and taking in and folding laundry. She had a housekeeping crew and landscape crew, and a crew for running down a couple of yard birds (chickens) on Saturday for Sunday’s dinner.

Being a mother is not an act, but an occupation. The moment a mother brings a child into this world their time from then on is occupied with taking care of that child.

My mother never neglected her duties as a mother. She was always there for her children. And whether with her or away we occupied her thoughts.

After her children were grown, she applied and got a job as a bus driver in Lowndes County. In her later years while she could still drive she house-sat and looked after others.

As a child I failed to see how special my mother was. I thought all mothers were like mine. It wasn’t until much later that I discovered how special she was and that there were very few like her.

While still at home children do not understand the strict rules, they’re made to follow. They don’t understand the weight of the parent’s responsibility and all that go into having a home and raising a family. The children may be critical while still at home but a little taste of real responsible parenting and their criticism turns to love, respect, and admiration.

It wasn’t until after my mother’s death that I discovered what a great woman she really was. My mother was great because she was a friend to any and everybody. She was great because she cared about people. She was great and I praise her because of how courageously, with great longsuffering, she bore up under tremendous suffering, heartache and pain, to be there for her children and be the mother they needed. And most of her suffering her children knew nothing about until after her passing, because she kept it hid from their eyes.

Shirley Caesar sings a song entitled, “I Remember Mama in a Happy Way.” And that’s how I remember my mother.

In May we honor those women who are special, who sacrificed, and made a difference in the lives of others. Well, my mother is at the top of the list. She is my hero and always will be.

My hero, my mother, passed away peacefully in her sleep July 4, 2014, and went to be with her Savior Jesus Christ. And I praise God for the mother I had then and now for the memories.

Roses for Mama

(In loving memory of my Mother; Inez Virginia (Jones) Cagle)
 
Roses for Mama; they usher in her spring,
Then grow in the sunshine her love alone can bring.
The love that she has t’ward the life in her womb,
Is felt and is warmth to each tiny bloom.

Roses for Mama, precious gifts the Lord brings;
Gifts she then consecrates wholly to the King.
And asks for the grace and wisdom she needs,
So that each child to the Savior one day she may lead.

Every little rose brings its own special joy
That a Mom and Dad notice, whether it’s a girl or a boy.
It may be their smile, or that gleam in their eye,
Or a very special gift, that shows their family ties.

Every rose imitates dear Dad and Mom,
Who show a Christ-likeness in the kingdom they call home.
Where kindly words are spoken and each one learns to share;
Where ev’ry rose is guarded with tender love and care.

Roses for Mama; her wealth she won’t slight,
Though some women have riches that pass away in the night.
She’s thought quite peculiar and looked on as odd,
To stay home and tend her roses that will live as long as God.

Roses for Mama are so tenderly grown,
In hopes that, through them, Christ’s beauty will be shown.
Mama prunes and props them, and points them above,
And oft’ to Mount Calvary, to show Jesus’ great love.

All gathered ‘round the Bible, Mom’s beautiful bouquet;
She bows her heart in thankfulness as to the Lord, she prays-
“That should the Lord transplant a rose to start another home,
He’d bless their life with roses, that would also bless Grandma.”

Roses for Mama; her best homespun lace.
Their character she weaves with threads of pure grace.
Her blessings are many, her compliments so few;
Until that day, she, God honors, with her children in view.
James H. Cagle

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