"Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her:" (Proverbs 31:28)
Wilda~My MotherWILDA A.  WAHL

Thinking of my Mother, Wilda, the soft, beautiful woman of my childhood; the one who now resides in such beauty, (His presence) and I can't even comprehend it. The one who protected, guided, and loved me—a willful child—with patience beyond anything I have ever had to experience. She had faith and trusted me to the Lord and said she knew I would be her “good girl!”

Reflecting back to bed-time memories in my little “youth” bed with the side guards to keep me safe, are precious; with my Mother reading stories, singing and mixing in bits of biblical wisdom, and some of it worked!

I especially remember her "spiritual," think about it and “count to ten” rule; I would count to ten then let my brother have it with a push, trip or punch; and that most likely happened on the count of nine. I always felt the little time I waited gave me the ability to strengthen my aim. In the aftermath of all the drama, I would shrug off the ache of stinging of legs, the switching was worth it to have all of her attention and enjoy a special mother-daughter “prayer of repentance time.”

She made my clothes; she was an excellent seamstress, and had started sewing as a child to help her mother clothe her many younger siblings. My outfits were special, and the time came when she let me design some, and she fashioned them without patterns.

In those days, we wore formals (long fancy dresses) to our piano recitals. She made many, and they were of “fairy tale” quality; iridescent taffeta, netting, sequins. They were one- of a- kind dresses, and they took the pain out of the awkward occasion. While playing on the “ivories” songs would vanish from my memory almost as soon as I sat on the bench. She would make my corsages from the seasonal flowers blooming in our yard adding ribbon, bows and lace! I was stunning, so the mirror said!

She and my dad loved to sing together, and by the time I paid attention to this I was all of eight or nine years old and she was twenty eight or so. The vibrato in her voice (a vocal quality envied by many) somehow was an embarrassment to me as was my Dad’s high tenor voice. Now I desire to have them fill my dreams and to span the gulf eternity has strewn between us; just one more song please…

I still long for her infectious laugh, her cool hand in mine, and the child-like sense of wonder that remained through all of her years. I would love to have one more trip to visit the mountains with her to hear the appreciation for God made beauty in her voice, each time it was always new to her, and I thank God for the pleasure it gave.

She made sure her family was well "churched." Jesus was the center of her life and she had a way of sharing him with us that was compelling and enduring. We, her children are all Christians and have raised our families in the manner of our parents.

I thank God for a godly mother; she set the course of my life early; her faith was the most real thing to her; all else came after that. I am overwhelmed with thanks to God for all she meant to me, all she shared with me and for the prayers she offered for me.

I dream of Mother often, in the most recent she was sitting on the floor with her dress spread around her; her face was glowing, as though a golden aura surrounded her head; she was young; absolutely beautiful and I kept staring at her face, I said, ”Mother I have never seen you wearing coral lipstick.” There was no answer she just smiled at me. I took a snapshot in my mind; it is a picture I want to hold framed in my heart. You know the questions I’m having, “Could this be how…?”

Her presence is always near, how long will I continue to reach for the phone, laugh at some funny thing she once said, and be guided by the effect she had on my conscience? How long will I hear her last words whispered to me, “I know…”as I was making her aware her family was with her? How long will I keep reminding the Lord to take good care of her, so ridiculous, but I can’t stop.

I would love to tell her face to face I love her; I miss her, and even today I need her; my confidant, my strength source, and my calmness, my special gift from God, the vessel he poured his ministering love through, just for me. She was my blessing.

Proverbs 31:27-31 (CEV)
She takes good care of her family and is never lazy. Her children praise her, and with great pride her husband says, “There are many good women but you are the best!”
Charm can be deceiving, and beauty fades away, but a woman who honors the Lord deserves to be praised. Show her respect─praise her in public for what she has done.

  Happy Mothers Day, Mom─ from your “good girl.”


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