For You, O God, hast heard my vows;
You have given me the heritage of those who fear Your name.
Back when I created Wonderful Counselor, I nearly wrote it with the husband and wife relationship in mind, but changed it to reflect the connection between the parent and child instead. In the back of my mind were the titles of two foreign films I had seen several years ago, My Father’s Glory and My Mother’s Castle. This poem as well as the next were the only ones written out of sequence and were placed as the last two pieces in this series because of their differences in style.
I didn’t use any scripture concerning this one. In fact, I only came across Psalm 61:5 as I was searching for a title for the piece. It was first entitled, Thy Parent’s Glory, but after reading Psalm 61:5, I liked A Holy Heritage better.
We are all called to pray. But for some reason, I hear more talk about a mother’s prayers than I do of a father’s. It was interesting that about this time, my mother told me of a seminar she had recently attended concerning women and prayer and their special places, or closets, of prayer.
Regarding the second stanza: if I could model my life after the life of Christ, then I could truly be called a Christian. This would affect my family life, my job, and every other facet of my life. This second stanza does not come from my life. My children really know how to push my buttons; I am usually running late for work; and I am sure that my co-workers don’t look at me and see Jesus. But it is something for which I am continually striving.
For the second-to-last time concerning this series, I'll make the statement that this was written twenty-some years ago. I'm not sure why I want that distinction made, but I do. My writing style from 20 years ago is very similar to how I write today, but seems a little stilted now.
A Holy Heritage
I am thy mother’s comfort —
She has a special place,
And meets Me there each day for prayer
Before My Throne of Grace.
While praying for her husband
And children — each by name,
She asks Me for just one day more
To keep each gentle frame.
Her best friend now has cancer —
Oh, how she lifts her up!
She vows to live each day I give
To share from her full cup.
I am thy father’s courage —
A model for his life:
That he’d adore his children more,
And cherish more his wife.
He rises in the morning
And meets me every day.
I love to hear his footsteps near
And watch him kneel to pray.
And in his daily workplace,
He shows integrity
In all he does and says, because
He does it all for Me.