My Mother has cried and wept for me,
when my hope was all but lost.
She will intercede, for her precious seed,
and never count the cost.

My Mother's faith is firm in God,
a find so sweet and rare.
Always praying for me, to be set free,
a warrior strong in prayer.

My Mother's prayer is the reason why,
I am serving God today.
She would reel me in, I could feel within,
every time I'd go astray.

My Mother is perfect in my eyes,
and God's work still isn't done.
No one could replace, that precious face,
that smiles upon her Son.

My Mother is selfless to a fault,
but I'm glad that fault is mine.
Always kneeling to pray, when I lost my way,
as a lighthouse she would shine.

My Mother is one of a kind, you see,
though my bias may be clear.
Nothing can compare, to the Love we share,
and the bond that brought us near.

My Mother will never fully know,
how much she is adored.
My debt is grand, for her Godly stand,
and her service to the Lord.

My Mother will hear from God one day,
Dear Lola, you have won.
Your prayers I heard, with your spoken word,
"please save my Timmy Jon".

My Mother will be so proud to see,
her son arrayed in white.
Her answered prayer, just standing there,
and precious in His sight.