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Bethany Mootsey

The Family of God


by Bethany Mootsey


Dear Mother Mary must have been a saint

To raise a youngster who was always right.

I wonder not that all the portraits paint

Her visage with an otherworldly light.

Imagine being born the next in line

And having sandals of such size to fill—

To hear, when making mischievous design,

“No, James, for I must do my Father’s will.”

And yet the mother and her brooding brood

Depleted selves of self and recognized

Divinity transcending family feud,

The prophet in his home no more despised.

If those so close could bear his reprimands,

What ease have I to heed my Lord’s commands!

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