The Mother of Song put on the kettle as grey tinged the morning horizon. The robins, thrushes and cardinals called, “Good mornings” back and forth to each other, not judging the day by its dingy grey morning threads with which it walked into the room. Soon she had the rashers of bacon spitting in the pan, eggs nestled in for cozy sunny-side companionship while the biscuits popped up in the oven.

Setting breakfast in the warmer, she took her steaming cuppa tea just outside the door, settling into to her bench, her sewing in her lap. As the sky colored up, from a white, to a yellow, to a rosy morning pink spill, spreading across the sky, the wrens and warblers trilled a noisy, busy good-morning song. She could just imagine them stretching in their nests, counting heads to make sure none that belonged had wandered away during the night, then figuring in their heads how many rounds of worm catching or seed gathering it would take to fill hungry bellies. For a moment, The Mother of Song missed counting the heads of those in her nest in the morning, figuring how much bread and stew to make, how many vegetables were left in the cellar at the end of winter, or if there was enough dried thyme and salt left to savor servings, whether the chickens would give enough eggs for the cake that was Emunah’s favorite, or enough blueberry’s on the bush for Natania’s favorite scone, or enough cocoa for Simchara’s favorite warm drink, or if there would be enough cream to make her husband’s favorite cheese.

She thought of Emunah and the stories Tik wrote her from the healing house. Through Emunah’s connections, they’d found word of Natania, that she had pieced together her mantle, lining it with the songs her mother had given her. She was adding new songs to it. She teaching children in the community where she had gained strength, teaching them to sing songs of Praise to the King of All Kingdoms and by the firelight at night helped her friends line their mantles with praise. She sent a simple note through Emunah’s contact, “All is well.”

Why she didn’t write and let them know, only the King of All Kingdoms knows. Emunah told her that some who come to the healing houses struggle to return home, even loving, kind, warm homes where unconditional love lives. The in-between where they lived in darkness from when they left home to where they come out into the light again is sometimes too big a divide. . . for today. Yet, Emunah said, she has seen that as the King of All Kingdoms and His son rebuild the broken places in each child of the kingdom, some are finally able to cross that great divide and return home.

Sometimes, Emunah had said, they think they have to do all the rebuilding themselves, all the cleaning up, even the crossing back on their own.

“Right now,” Emunah said gently, gathering her mother into a hug. “She is trying to do it all on her own. You know she doesn’t need to do this on her own. I know she doesn’t need to do this on her own. Until she knows she doesn’t need to do this on her own, we need to be hands-off and hands-up. . . The King, Mama, He is not surprised, though we are. He’s got a plan. One day, she will let Him finish the rebuilding.”

Ever since that day, a few years before, when The Mother of Song heard a voice in song carried on a breeze, carried by the King of All Kingdoms to this very spot outside her cottage door, she came out here, tilting her head, trying again to hear the thread of her voice in song. She’d never heard it again. That’s what a mother does, though, isn’t it? Listens again for the sound of hope, for a voice carried to home, or the tread of footsteps on the path, a “Hello, Mama?” Every morning she came, in the snow, even in a rain, always today, and she stretched all the senses within her to hear once again her daughter’s voice in song.

The sound of her husband’s step from within, shook her out of her thoughts. As her husband, The Father of Song, left their cottage, he bent, kissed her forehead, his hand on her shoulder. She reached up, giving his hand a warm squeeze, her smile warm, his eyes sparkling for her.

As he stepped onto the stone path, he walked to the gate, and turned towards the fields, a hum carried back to her. She picked up the thread of that hum, winding it into her heart, and the heart sang back, quietly at first, then strong in the dew-kissed air, as she sang, her voice trailing after him.

“You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord
Who abide in His shadow for life
Say to the Lord, “My refuge, my rock in whom I trust!”

And He will raise you up on eagles’ wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand

The snare of the fowler will never capture you
And famine will bring you no fear
Under His wings your refuge, His faithfulness your shield

And He will raise you up on eagles’ wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand

You need not fear the terror of the night
Nor the arrow that flies by day
Though thousands fall about you, near you it shall not come

For to His angels He’s given a command
To guard you in all of your ways
Upon their hands they will bear you up
Lest you dash your foot against a stone

And He will raise you up on eagles’ wings
Bear you on the breath of dawn
Make you to shine like the sun
And hold you in the palm of His hand”
~ Michael Joncas,” On Eagles Wings”

Maybe that is what the early birds are singing –the robins, the thrushes, the cardinals, that even the little birds are raised up to soar, just like the eagle. Even the late risers – the wrens and warblers – that The King of All Kings sends them to you and me, sending us a love song reminding us to keep on hoping, to keep on trusting, to keep on drawing near to Him, spending time with Him – and we find ourselves soaring on wings like eagles, renewed. Maybe we are both singing the same praise songs to the King of All Kings.

Smiling to herself at this playful thought, this Mother of Song picked up the tiny child’s mantle, lining it with songs dear to her heart, with the songs she had sung to her daughter when she was a baby. Simchara would be arriving within the week, with her sweet child, for a long over-due visit. Soon she would be counting heads, at least for a little while, and planning once again, how to fill the empty stomachs throughout the day. She’d better check the cocoa tin to see if it needed filling.

Elijah’s Mantle Series:
Part 1: God’s Mantle Bearer
Part 2: Soul Speak
Part 3: A Word Sandwich
Part 4: No Longer a Man Alone
Part 5: A Mentor’s Apprentice
Part 6: An Apprentice’s Mentors
Part 7: The Apprentice’s Choices
Part 8: The Apprentice’s Focus
Part 9: The Apprentice’s Heart
Part 10: The Apprentice’s Strength for Courage
Part 11: Man-Made Mantles of Strength for Courage
Part 12: The Mantle of Christmas Keeping
Part 13: Daring to Walk Close
Part 14: A Mentor-Apprentice Rapport
Part 15: Learning to Wear The Mentor’s Mantle
Part 16: Lining, Hemming, Steeping
Part 17: Recipe for Mantle Making
Part 18: Bespoke Mantles
Part 19: Who’s Going to Pick Up My Mantle (Coming after the completion of Lined with Praise)
Part 20: Conclusion to Elijah’s Mantle Series

Lined with Praise: A Story Within the Elijah Mantle Series
Part 1: Lined with Praise
Part 2: Lined with Praise
Part 3: Lined with Praise
Part 4: Lined with Praise
Part 5 Lined with Praise
Part 6: Lined with Praise
Part 7: Lined with Praise
Part 8: Lined with Praise
Part 9: Lined with Praise
Part 10: Lined with Praise
Part 11: Lined with Praise
Part 12: Lined with Praise
Part 13: Lined with Praise
Part 14: Lined with Praise
Part 15: Lined with Praise

Remember Me Monday: #150 Link-up

“I’ll make a list of God’s gracious dealings,
    all the things God has done that need praising,
All the generous bounties of God,
    his great goodness to the family of Israel—
Compassion lavished,
.    love extravagant.”
~ Isaiah 63:7, The Message

In the Old Testament, God repeatedly, quietly and loudly, tells his children, “You have forgotten me!”  (Jeremiah 3:32, Ezekiel 22:12, to name a few). It’s a heart cry from a father to a child who has forgotten all the love, all the saving, helping, little and big blessings – and it leaves me stunned when I realize our Father, the creator of the universe, who knows things I cannot begin to fathom, who authors storylines that leave me amazed, delights in all of us so much, He cries out, “Remember Me.”

While every day is a Remember God Day, I am inviting you to join me on Monday mornings to come by and remember what God has done for you, for your family. Maybe God sent a cardinal darting out in front of you, as if to tell you, “I’m here,” or broke a child’s fever after you laid it all down at His feet in a 2 a.m. bedside vigil. Maybe He stood with you in the wait of a prayer sent out, or brought someone you loved to Christ. Maybe He healed your broken heart, gave your courage, or you gave Him your dreams as a love offering only to have Him give them back in an unimaginable way. Maybe God helped you survive to bedtime after a crazy Monday, or forgive yourself for missing it with your kiddos –– Whatever it is, let’s Remember Him. . . in a “Remember Me Monday” love letter.

“My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
Of your salvation all the day long,
Though I know not its measure.
I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign Lord”
~ Psalm 71:15-16.

Let us delight in Him by telling the  stories of what He’s done!  If you wrote a blog post remembering what He’s done for you, join the linky. If you didn’t but still want to praise Him for what He’s done – write it in the comment section. Then visit a comment before or after yours! One of the beautiful things about the blogging community is the relationships it builds!

Rules?  Write long or short, a list or a story, include photos or not. Just Remember Him and what He has done, and let the gratitude of your heart guide you. Let’s make Monday so Rejoice, that the goodness of God spills into the rest of the week! (Link opens Mondays at 6 a.m.)

Places I’m Linking at This Week:
  Instaencouragements, Legacy Link-Up, 
Let’s Have Coffee Wednesday 
Recharge Wednesday, Scripture & a Snapshot
Grace&Truth, Sweet Tea & Friends
The Good, The Random, The Fun