A Mother’s Day Poem by Ruth Bell Graham

Listen, Lord, a mother’s praying low and quiet: listen, please. Listen what her tears are saying, see her heart upon its knees; lift the load from her bowed shoulders till she sees and understands, You, Who hold the worlds together, hold her problems in Your hands.   from “Clouds are the Dust of His Feet” …

 

A Poem by Ruth Bell Graham

I climbed the hills through yesterday: and I am young and strong again; my children climb These hills with me, and all the time they shout and play; their laughter fills the coves among the rhododendron and the oak till we have struggled to the ridge top where the chestnuts grew. Breathless, tired, and content …