Just beyond the row of trees that embraces our father's land, flow the icy waters of the Tunnel Hill Creek, a small, humble, seemingly insignificant body of water that sprang forth from the earth somewhere north of our land and carved its path through the soil and rock, racing forward to its destiny.

Along its path, the water gathered tiny treasures, limestone, sandstone, minerals and shells, and occasionally a little pollution, and carried them down its chosen path.  Some tiny treasures where deposited along the way and others will be carried the whole journey to an ocean full of these treasures.

Such was the life of our mother, a small, humble, seemingly insignificant body of living water that sprang forth from the earth somewhere north of our land, and just as the waters of the Tunnel Hill Creek gathered its treasures, so did she.  Mom carved them out of the rocks and stones of life and carried them along her chosen path.

Some treasures, or seeds if you will, she deposited into the lives of her children and the people she touched along the way.  Seeds of "Do this and don't do that,"  "God is watching you," and "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."  There were seeds we wanted and seeds we didn't, "You do what I say or else," and "If you don't work for it, you can't have it."  Of course there were seeds that fell to the side, but one rock hard seed of granite stayed for life; "Jesus died for you."

Some of these seeds have reached foreign lands, Vietnam, where a son served his country for two horrific terms of duty, Iraq, where two grandsons served as well.  (Did you know James Alan shot the tires from under a school bus to protect its passengers from the certain death of driving through a field full of land mines?  Have you heard about Travis protecting his fellow soldiers and the house that Brent built?  Courage that came from the seed of granite.)  A seed of tenacity leads people in Kenya, Pakistan, Burma, India, and even the Sultanate of Oman, to Jesus.  A seed of servitude has taught hundreds of third graders, "Oh yes you can," and "God loves you."  A seed of survival tells the fallen, the addicted, "Get up! There is still life to be lived...and enjoyed."

Some seeds, this small, humble, seemingly insignificant body of living water will carry the whole journey to a vast ocean of believers, full of these tiny treasures.  Seeds that don't belong will be cast away, and seeds that do belong will return to the sower - the Tree of Life.

As we travel our own chosen paths, we'll do the same.  We'll gather from the soil and rocks of our chosen path both good seeds and bad.  We'll learn to sift through them; the bad seeds we'll cast away. The good, we'll deposit along our way.  We'll touch the lives of others with the treasures we have chosen to keep, and the seeds will travel on throughout eternity.

Eventually, each of Mother's children, both physical and spiritual, will courageously reach their destiny by believing in the rock hard granite seed of Jesus who died for us. And we'll stand on the banks of the vast ocean where she has gone, and just as our beloved mother, who served her small, humble, seemingly insignificant, yet ever enduring, always persevering, far reaching purpose well by sowing her seeds, we'll eat from the Tree of Life (together).

I miss you Momma.  Happy Mother's Day.