My Mother

By Charles R. Grisham

Thank Thee God, for my sweet mother,

She stands by me as would no other,
In each prayer, I ask of You,

To protect her, Lord, I beg of You.

Her worth to me I cannot tell,
For hearts like her's, they do not sell,
A heart of gold and eyes that shine,
She's worth a lot, that mother of mine.

When day is done and it's thime for bed,
I kneel in reverance and bow my head,
To thank the Maker far above,
For one like her for me to love.

If I could be at home tonight,
I'd kiss her cheeks and hug her tight;
Tell her all she means to me,
And talk of days that used to be.

I know that Jesus loves her too,
For she is one of His chosen few,
He's led her daily by the hand,
She has a home in His Promised Land.

I'm sure in prayer she thought of me,
That we might both in Heaven be,
To dwell with God upon His Throne,
And live forever in our new home.

Editorial Note: Bishop Grisham wrote this poem in 1951. His mother, Sis. Fern Grisham, was a blessing to her family and to the housefold of faith. After raising her children in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Sis. Fern later traveled throughout the contnental U.S. as a children's evangelist, winning many souls to the Lord. Bishop and Sister Grisham retired in 2007, and are now living in Ashland City, Tennessee. They attend First United Pentecostal Church (Pastor Ron Becton) in Nashville.