It’s a difficult time in a mother’s life
The long nights are filled with worry and strife.
It’s a time when a mother’s child is grown
But he hasn’t yet moved to a home of his own.
So sometimes at night I creep out and see
If your moccasins lie there, waiting for me.
I sigh with relief when I see them there
On the welcome mat, by the entry chair.
Then I’m grateful to God for His tender care
And the knowledge of knowing you’ve entered there.
Someday in the future, I hope years from now,
I’ll be in Heaven’s Hall worshipping, making a bow,
To the King of Kings, Creator of all.
Yet once in a while, I’ll slip out of the Hall
And running down to the entrance gate,
Breathless and eager I’ll watch and I’ll wait.
Patiently longing to see you, my son,
Will your moccasins be there, when life’s race is done?
Yes, I’ll shout with joy when I see them there
On the welcome mat, by St. Peter’s chair.
Then I’ll praise God for His tender care
And the knowledge of knowing you’ve entered there.