Shirley V. Singley

My mother was my shepherd. I never went without, although she sometimes did. She made me lie down and take naps.

On more than one occasion, she calmed the troubled waters of my life and assured me that things would be okay.

She’s the one who made my soul come alive to God’s love. She taught me the difference between right and wrong, and introduced me to God’s ways.

Even though I’ve walked through some pretty dark valleys, she’s always come and found me. With the crook of her arm, she’s pulled me out of some pretty rough places. She’s pointed me in better directions with the rod of her wise guidance. Whenever bad things happened in my life and enemies gathered around, she cooked and told me to sit down and eat. Like oil poured from a cup, she patted me on the head to remind me of her love.

No matter where I’ve ever gone, my mom has somehow managed to follow me. Her goodness has shown up in packages of cookies, or birthday cards with a five-dollar bill inside, or simply beautiful memories that came to mind unexpectedly.

Her mercy was constant. There’s not one sin I’ve ever committed that she hasn’t forgiven me for.

Someday, the time will come for me to go and dwell in the house of the Lord. When the door opens, I expect I’ll see her standing there, in her apron, with a smile on her face. No doubt she’ll turn to Jesus and simply say, “He’s home.”