Sunday, May 10, 2009

Happy Mother's Day!

Sitting here alone on Mother’s Day as the rest of my family slumbers peacefully (or so they are pretending), I think about the women in my life who’ve made a difference in who I have become and yet may not know the influence they have had. It is not easy for me to say those words that adequately express my love and appreciation, but hopefully they know of my love and appreciation.


I heard this song this morning and really actually listened to the words. I know that this is the case with my wife, Jana, and I imagine it is true for many others. We see the screw-ups in ourselves pretty clearly, and we can remember them forever. It’s the everyday, just regular good stuff about ourselves that we don’t recognize.

For all of those “soccer moms” out there, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!


Quarter to seven on a Thursday night
She’s running late again
She gets a ticket ‘cause she ran the light
Racing to help a friend
Then she remembers a promise made
A couple of weeks before
She’d bake the brownies for the PTA
But she’s run out of time
So she gets hers from the store

Quarter to seven on a Friday night
She’s running late again
What can she wear that’s gonna look just right
At the party she’s throwing for him?
Living on rice cakes and Diet Coke
She hasn’t lost that much
Her dress is too tight and her hair’s a joke
But the party’s a hit‘Cause it had her magic touch
And she doesn’t know
That she’s an angel in disguise
And she doesn’t know
That we see heaven in her eyes
And she doesn’t know that she’s all right
She might have been blinded by the light
Of all the good that she does
That she doesn’t know

She’s been worried ‘bout the kids next door
Since the breakup last fall
Got them some T-shirts from a Hard Rock store
That they haven’t worn at all
Reading the paper about some plight
Plaguing a distant shore
Pulls out her checkbook and starts to write
And feels guilty she doesn’t send more
She doesn’t focus on the good she does
All she sees is where she’s failed her part
Can’t she see that we think she’s a saint
Because she’s givin’ all she has straight from her heart

Quarter to seven on a Sunday morn
She’s on her knees again
Aching for all who’ve been bruised and torn
She’s pleading for help for them
She has a rather extensive list
Of those she’s been praying for
But then she remembers the ones she missed
How sorry she feels once more

‘Cause she doesn’t know
That she’s an angel in disguise
And she doesn’t know that we see
Heaven in her eyes
And she doesn’t know that she’s all right
She might have been blinded by the light
Of all the good that she does
But she doesn’t see it because
She hits a traffic jam on a carpool morn
And feels guilty what she’s thinkin’
When she honks her horn
She wrote a sympathy note for her dear friend, Grace
But got it lost somewhere in cyberspace
And at the charity auction when she wanted to help
She raised her hands so many times she sort of bid against herself
She got the casserole made for her friend who was sick
But then apologized because the crust was too thick
She’s runnin’ to the soccer and the baseball games
She cheers for the teams but forgets their names
She doesn’t know that she’s a miracle
She doesn’t know her love is lyrical
She doesn’t know this song’s for her to hear
She doesn’t know that we are so sincere
She doesn’t know that she’s the best
She doesn’t know she’s passed the test
She doesn’t know,
she doesn’t know
She doesn’t know
***Words by Michael McLean

1 comments:

Parker Family said...

I love that! That is so sweet! Thanks for sharing! Hope your mothers day was awesome!