Do you think that I love you because,
You’re lovely in so many ways?
Do you think it’s your brain that I love?
Or the joy that you give me most days?
Do you think it’s your hair that’s so dear?
Or the way your nose goes with your chin?
Do you think it’s the face in the mirror?
Or your goofy laugh, or sweet grin?
Do you think it’s your talents dear child,
That cause me this deepening love?
If you manner remains meek, and mild,
My love will flow out from above?
Not these things, though they’re fine,
And certainly ways to strive after.
It’s not your face, voice, or your mind;
Not your gifts, or tears, or your laughter.
No. for when these disappear and instead,
You’re soured by rage, anger, and strife!
If you disobey when you wake, til’ in bed;
Still my love will pour out on your life.
My love does not change. Though I may rage.
It remains constant and it is not severed!
For when we both stumble, no matter our age.
I can’t forget, that inside me, He knit you together.
So forgive me my child if I should falter.
As your mother I’m flawed and I fail.
I too rely on the God who won’t alter.
I too need the hands pierced by nail.